


I Guess It Is You

by RubyPirate



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Background Relationships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Reylo - Freeform, Rom-com, Slow Burn, with a sprinkling of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 93,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7359415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyPirate/pseuds/RubyPirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rey is just trying to get through the daily grind; go to her job at the scrapyard, hit the town with her friends, get a decent amount of sleep - rinse, repeat. Unfortunately, the arsehole upstairs doesn't seem inclined to let her do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pizza for Two

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, I'm going to try and keep this pretty light and fluffy - just for fun. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: I have had one or two messages that make me want to clear this up for new readers; yes, this is predominantly fluff, but I like to take a running jump at it - by that I mean that I don't see Rey and Ben skipping to the couple-y, bff-type bits immediately. I like it to be a little rocky to give the fluff some core structure and meaning as it develops, it's just how I roll. ALSO: I write these characters as flawed individuals who do not always behave quite as they should - I mean it when I say I have zero intention of compromising that because someone thinks that they should be 'nicer' sorry for the rant, but it needed to be said, apparently.

_It’s one o’clock in the morning_.

 

Rey was supposed to be asleep at one o’clock in the morning, letting unconsciousness and the fresh smell of laundry detergent envelop her as she snuggled down. She’d had a long shift down at the scrap yard and she should have been asleep.

 

Instead, the young woman had marched up the stairs to the floor above her flat and was pounding on the chipped-paint door – attempting, largely in vain, to be louder than the would-be Phil Collins party raging on the other side. Rather than having to be louder than a recording, however, Rey was trying to outweigh the sound of the very live – and apparently very energetic – arsehole playing his very live drums at one o’clock in the fucking morning.

 

_How is no one else complaining about this?_

 

Rey huffed and stood there, after her most recent barrage of knocking, shifting from one bare foot to the other. The flooring tiles under her feet were slabs of ice on her skin – sending shivers up her calves. She kept her arms folded around her middle in an attempt to keep her light cotton robe covering up the parts of her that her soft, green nightwear left on show. It would have been much easier if she still had the waist tie. Normally she wouldn’t have cared about who saw what – she’d probably worn less at the beach – but she took a petty satisfaction that this particular arse would never get to see that.

 

He was too pale to have ever even seen a beach, in Rey’s opinion.

 

She’d only been in her new flat for a couple of months and this was the – she counted it on her fingers – eighth time he’d done this. Not that she cared to remember the number of times she had been up to his door.

 

With every passing second, Rey could feel her eyes get heavier and heavier despite the attack of the drums going on not ten feet from where she stood. If she wasn’t careful, exhaustion might just win out. She was almost tempted to let it, after the day she’d had; a mix-up of paperwork resulting in completely up-ending Unkar Plutt’s shack of an office, a missing totalled car, and some jackass brandishing a crowbar at them. Rey yawned – not even bothering to hold it back, she figured she deserved at least that. While _he_ couldn’t see her, anyway.

 

Shaking her head and blinking a couple of times, tiredness drying her eyeballs to wood, Rey reached out her fist to try the door again. Her knocks seemed to be losing their fervour – a fact she noted with considerably less irritation than would have been the case when she first stormed upstairs. Rey tried again – throwing what little scrap of energy she had left into pounding on the door. Then the drums stopped.

 

At first, Rey wondered if she had finally fallen asleep leaning against the battered doorframe. It wouldn’t have surprised her, though her current situation would make an odd dream. Then, she realised that the side of her hand still ached from where she had hit the door. Rey frowned at the sudden stillness and, after a brief pause, pressed her ear up against the place she had been knocking; the edges of the curling, dark blue paint scratching against her ear. All she could make out were vague sounds like listening through a tank of water. Rey pushed nearer. A flake of paint settled on her foot.

 

In the room beyond, she could hear his low, murmuring voice but not what he was saying. Rey stepped lurchingly back, hands sloppily on her hips and considered what she was going to do. On the one hand, now was the perfect opportunity to get him to hear her and give him a piece of her mind; on the other, Rey had come to the conclusion that she really didn’t want to talk to him and someone else evidently managed to drag him away from the ruckus he was making. For now.

 

 _Ah, screw it_ , she thought, _let someone else deal with his royal gitishness for a change_.

 

No sooner had she turned around and started padding down the cool tiled floor – now less of a pain since she had got used to it – back to the stairs when the sound of him tapping the kick once roused Rey from her complacency. She stomped back and relentlessly hammered on the door with renewed vigour. Rey would have called it pissed-offed-ness herself.

 

She soon heard footsteps stridently approaching, and ceased her attack on the door. She was only glad the thing was already in pretty bad shape, or else their landlord might have had a few words about the state of it now. Rey stood to her full height, squared her shoulders and made sure her robe was pulled close around her body.

 

The lock clicked abruptly open and the door was snatched backward on its hinges to reveal a barely-lit room. The only light source well out of sight and just barely causing a glimmering golden reflection off one angled cymbal. Silhouetted in front of the dim glow was the unkempt, lanky form of Sir Git the royal arse, King Jerkface, the bastard himself, Mr Grumpypants the class-a dick, the devil in human form. Otherwise known as Ben Solo.

 

He smelled of fresh sweat and the barest hint of alcohol – the scents carried on the whoosh of unbearably warm air that dashed out into the hallway, almost choking Rey in the heat. His thick, dark hair was an unruly mess on his head; sweat-drenched and spiking up at odd angles. It was the worst Rey had ever seen it, quite honestly. The rest of him was equally shambolic, with a tattered grey shirt sticking to his skin and more holes in his socks than a tennis racket. Even his jeans were ripped in odd places. All told, he looked like he had just walked out of a hurricane.

 

With a shiver as his body hit the cooler outside air, his skin pimpling to gooseflesh, Ben narrowed his eyes at Rey as though she was something he had stepped in and yet to wipe off his shoe. If she hadn’t lived here for longer than a week, Rey might have been shocked at his gall. As it was, she stood her ground with her chin stuck out so he wouldn’t know how much her exhausted brain was struggling to put together a coherent sentence that would do justice to her infuriation.

 

“You’re not the pizza guy.” He sounded genuinely confused, and a little annoyed.

 

“No, I’m not.” Her forehead puckered in a frown. _Pizza, at one in the morning?_ Rey shook her head to keep herself awake and focused; the last thing she needed was _him_ changing the subject and her fatigued body deciding that this hallway was comfortable enough for a nap. “Look, it’s one in the morning-”

 

“Ten past.” He shrugged, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe – a position which put him much closer to Rey than she liked.

 

Rey scowled up at him as she attempted to shuffle surreptitiously backward. She was too exhausted to tell if she was successful, but she hoped it wasn’t too obvious. Ben’s cocky half-smirk testified the opposite – she chose to ignore him and get back to her original point. What was the point again? Oh yeah.

 

“It’s early.” She snipped back, raising her hands sharply. “And I, like most of the people in this building, I imagine, would like to sleep – something we cannot do with your _racket_ going on!”

 

“No one else seems bothered by it, princess.”

 

“ _Don’t_ call me that!” Rey reneged on her effort to get away from him and took a step forward. “All I am asking for is for you not to practice this late… early. You know what I mean!”

 

“You know… anyone would think you _like_ coming up here and yelling at me about this,” Ben crooned, doing nothing to increase the distance between them. He shifted on the doorframe so that his arm was above his head and Ben was leaning on his forearm. Which put him in the perfect position to lean forward a hairsbreadth.

 

Rey’s pride wouldn’t let her surrender ground. She pulled herself up as tall as she could manage – difficult when facing a giant of a man like Ben Solo – and glared into his bottomless black eyes for all she was worth. She chose not to acknowledge his _ridiculous_ accusation by deigning to respond to it, ignoring the comment was far preferable – that and she was having difficulty pulling a half-decent response out of her sleep-deprived mind.

 

“I tell you what;” Ben inched close enough that Rey could smell something spicy and citrusy on his breath and dropped his voice to that silky, low murmur that could have almost anyone doing whatever he wanted, “you don’t like it, sweetheart, you call the cops.”

 

Rey boiled at the thought that he had evidently got it into his head that she was bluffing or – even more deplorable – that she _liked_ coming up here to have this conversation with him more times than she could currently recall. So much so, that it completely slipped her mind to reprimand him for calling her _sweetheart_.

 

“Fine,” Rey sneered. Soon, a wicked grin materialised over her own lips before she finished, with extraordinary determination. “I will.”

 

That got him.

 

Ben’s smug expression vanished like smoke and, for a split-second, he looked more than a little concerned. That was virtually immediately replaced by the ugly, angry look Rey was more used to seeing on the man as he stormed through the building on his way to the door. Rey’s smile got just a fraction brighter.

 

Maintaining eye contact, Rey backed-up into the corridor a little. The cold gingerly started to seep back into the young woman’s bones the further away she got from the door. That, and a tangy smell that made her stomach stir quietly which laced the frigid air. She was just about to open her mouth to say something when there was a nervous cough from behind her. Rey span around – chestnut hair flying out slightly from her face – to see a young-ish man in a faded red t-shirt holding a pizza box.

 

“Ah,” came Ben’s voice from behind her, “there you are. Took you a while.”

 

Rey caught herself licking her lips – now that the mouth-watering odour was identified as a meat-stacked pizza. She quickly pulled her tongue back into her mouth before Ben knew she was positively salivating – no need to give him extra angles to tease her.

 

“Great.” The delivery guy talked even more deadpan than Ben did most of the time. Rey was actually a bit shocked at that. “You’ve got a lot of stairs there mate.” He handed Ben the pizza.

 

“The elevator hasn’t worked in ages,” Rey cut in before the loaded gun beside her could open his mouth and say anything worse – he didn’t look best pleased with the deliverer’s attitude. Rey couldn’t help but find that ironic.

 

“Right, well… hey, that your kit?” At last, he seemed genuinely interested in something; his tone picking up at least two points of liveliness to Rey’s reckoning. His dull, grey-blue eyes widened as he stood on tip-toes – soles of his sneakers shrieking on the smooth floor – to peer over Ben’s mile-high shoulder. He pointed into Ben’s flat at the drums poking out from behind the wall. Rey could have sworn the kit shrank back into the gloom – maybe that was just the weak light.

 

“No, I’m baby-sitting them for a friend.” There was that dry, sarcastic tone Rey was used to from him. Apparently the pizza delivery guy didn’t follow because his shoulders visibly sagged.

 

“Oh. Shame.”

 

Rey almost rolled her eyes at this guy. When she saw Ben’s eyes arc up to the ceiling, however, she was glad she didn’t.

 

“I’m surprised they let you practice – in my building they’ve banned it.” He was back to looking glum and apathetic. Rey wondered what it would take to get a reaction from him – other than the drums, of course. _An avalanche… corpse landing on his car… me, streaking down the stairwell… or in a neon tutu…_ Ben _in a neon tutu…_

 

“Deaf,” Ben pointed across the hall to indicate the resident, his sharp voice recalling Rey from her idle thoughts, “recluse,” at the ceiling, “nurse with anti-social hours,” he nodded next door, “external wall,” he jutted his thumb over his shoulder toward the window at the end of the hall, glowing in the light of the streetlamp outside.

 

“Nice.” The guy nodded, still not even a quirk of his lips.

 

Rey decided the issue of the downstairs flat – that very much _did_ have an issue with Ben’s playing, or smashing, whatever – wasn’t worth picking with some innocent delivery guy. Even if he had the personality of stale bread. She huffed and pulled her robe a little tighter; side-eyeing Ben mercilessly. Either he paid her no mind or didn’t notice – Rey was willing to bet on the former.

 

“Anyway, got to go. Follow the rhythm dude.” He slackly threw up his hand with his first and pinky fingers pointing at the ceiling, other two held down by his thumb. Rey blinked a couple of times – not fully ready to accept that people under the age of thirty-five still did that. Come to mention it, people over that age probably had no business doing it either.

 

“Yeah,” Ben said noncommittally. From the look on his face, Rey would guess his thoughts didn’t stray too far from her own this once. She forced herself not to dwell on that.

 

As soon as the delivery guy had disappeared down the stairs, Rey turned back to Ben. He had already opened the pizza box and was in the process of extricating a slice from the cascades of mozzarella cheese tethering it to the rest of the pizza. As the nigh-on irresistible scent of melted cheese and pepperoni swelled in her nostrils, Rey decided he was doing it on purpose to torment her. The matter was settled when he was finally able to take a large bite – each strip of mozzarella having snapped to release the thick slice – grease shining in the corners of his mouth, and gave a long, exaggerated moan.

 

“See,” Ben said around the mouthful, “some people _like_ my drumming.”

 

“I suppose it isn’t worth pointing out that he never actually heard you play?” Rey retorted acerbically.

 

“Nope.” He shook his head and took another bite of pizza. How he could fit any more in his half-stuffed mouth, Rey had no idea.

 

At last, she couldn’t take it anymore. He was being so arrogant and unfair – and what with tiredness robbing Rey of most of her impulse control, she acted without thinking. Her hand dashed out and snatched a slice of pizza from the box; much to Ben’s wide-eyed, indignant shock. Rey was halfway to the stairs before he even had a chance to call out.

 

“Hey!” He shouted. “That’s _mine!_ ”

 

Leaning back on the handrail, Rey threw him a mischievous grin. An expression she only risked because she knew she could outrun him back to her flat even if he dropped the pizza box. She put as much of the slice in her mouth as she could and chomped down – severing cheese, meat and bread alike in one satisfying chew.

 

“If you don’t like it, call the cops.” It was a miracle she was able to get all that out without spraying pizza everywhere or choking.

 

Rey pushed herself lightly off from the rail and turned to leap down the stairs two at a time; waving back at Ben with what was left of her slice of pizza. Regardless of her lack of sleep and his not getting the point of why she went up there in the first place, Rey counted her cheesy prize as a kind of victory.

 

She didn’t even want to think about the kind of war she may have just started with the arsehole upstairs. _Well_ , Rey mused, _he started it_.


	2. Spacial Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness I did not expect this fic to get as much attention as it did - 100 views in the first 24 hours is big for me - so thank you to everyone who read, gave kudos etc, you all brought a smile to my face! I've had a bit of a think about where I want this fic to go and I've got a few ideas so I'm going to go ahead and slap a slow burn tag on this thing. If you guys have anything you want to see/think might be fun/whatever I'm all for hearing it! For the time being, however, cue Ben being a git and Rey coming up with entertaining nicknames for him!

Rey sighed and heaved her backpack full of clanking mechanical parts onto the rear driver’s-side seat of her car. The vehicle itself gave a squeaky complaint at the boisterous treatment of its generously-named suspension. The rumbling bucket of bolts had seen better days, that was certain, and those days had probably been before its current owner was born. Rey slammed the door shut without a second thought.

 

She would admit – to herself, at least – that perhaps her bag was a little more stuffed than usual, but that was hardly her fault. Working at Unkar Plutt’s scrapyard gave her the means to pick up bits and pieces for her homemade inventions, though not always the opportunity. His boys tended to pick over the choicest vehicles and machines brought in, then sell the parts they could for quick profit. Rey could hardly blame them – she knew what Unkar paid. _Tight-fisted bastard_. That did, however, mean that getting hold of working, useful parts was pretty much impossible. Luckily, Rey was cunning and sneaky, if she did say so herself.

 

Her backpack was crammed with wires, gears, a radio emitter – which Rey intended to try and link-up with the receiver she had back at home – and a couple of decent, if slightly dented, actuators. One of the parts was poking through an old hole in the bag. All-in-all, it wasn’t a bad haul – particularly when she had to snaffle the things away under her boss’ nose.

 

In general, Rey agreed that stealing was wrong. She had had this discussion with Finn several times. Her argument was that she was stealing for a good cause; Unkar sold anything his boys brought in for ridiculous amounts so that only certain people could get a hold of them – she was just ensuring that someone other than Richie Rich could have easy access to mechanical parts. Finn had still argued that technically she wasn’t enabling the poor so much as adding herself to the privileged. Rey had set up an ebay account for getting rid of her excess kit after that – hence the backpack full of surplus wires in her car.

 

Rey plonked down in the driver’s seat – the suspension grumbled rustily again – and pulled the door shut after her. She could see her boss and his lackeys in his ramshackle office; several shadows in a range of heights and scraggiliness, and one very large, squat one. That was Unkar. Rey’s nose wrinkled on instinct. Sadly, however, she was finding it difficult to find another job so this would have to do. Rey was okay waiting for something better to come along; she had been doing it most of her life.

 

She could feel grease on almost every bare inch of skin, and car fumes had matted her hair. She supposed she looked something very much like a stray cat at the end of her shift. Rey didn’t even bother trying to untangle that mess as she had after her first day. Instead, she just pulled out the lowest of her three buns and re-tied it; that would have to do for the drive home. At least it kept the hot knot of hair off the back of Rey’s neck. As ever, a long-ish shower was going to be her immediate priority once she was back in her own flat.

 

Thankfully, her battered car jolted to life after only two tries of the ignition – Rey’s eyebrows shot up at that. Normally it took at least four. Not one to turn down small mercies, she pulled away before the car could decide to cut out again.

 

Rey made a mental note to fiddle with the engine again the next time she got a spare minute. She realised with a scoff that she had been saying that to herself for weeks – free time didn’t exactly turn up often.

 

One of Unkar’s scrappy gang watched her leave; seemingly featureless head turning as she drove down the short dirt-track to the main road. Rey did nothing to supress the shiver that ran liquid-like down her spine, fingers curling instinctively tighter around the car wheel. She worked with a bunch of creeps for a mega-creep and crappy pay. _It could be worse_ , Rey told herself with a deep breath.

 

Rey had sworn to herself that this was only temporary and she would find something better, soon – she could last that long. Tomorrow was her day off, anyway, she could pretend the job didn’t exist for twenty-four hours. Her friends were talking about them all going out tonight as well. It was lining up to be absolutely-

 

 _Shit_.

 

Just as she pulled the corner into the – quite frankly – tiny car park at the back of her building, Rey saw Sir Grumps-a-lot parking his ridiculous motorcycle in her space. His lanky frame sitting bolt-upright on the bike as he grumpily kicked out the sidestand.

 

_It’s not that big of a deal, Rey, just ask him nicely to move it. He can’t be that much of a jerk, can he?_

 

Rey hadn’t actually spoken to Ben since the pizza incident a couple of days ago. It wasn’t that she was avoiding him, just that Unkar had had her take on more shifts since she came into work late the day after going to bed at gone one in the morning. It was all she could do to keep her day off sacrosanct.

 

Not that she would have gone out of her way to talk to him either.

 

Now here he was, dismounting his motorcycle in _her_ space. Dismounting, because apparently he couldn’t even get off a bike without being dramatic; one leg sweeping in an arc over the handles and dashboard. If it had been anyone else, Rey might have been tempted to think it looked good. As it was him, however, she only smiled at the thought that it would have looked better if he’d caught his leg on the handle.

 

She pulled up just behind him – hands flexing on her wheel – and got out of the car. At first, Rey had intended to be civil about this, but she found herself marching up to him at some speed.

 

“Hey!” Not the most elegant of beginnings, Rey had to admit. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 

He looked at her questioningly for a moment, or that’s what Rey _thought_ he was doing. It was difficult to tell when he had the dark, reflective visor of his helmet down. All Rey could really see was a skewed mirror image of her own angry face glowering up at him. She could also see the large, black, oil-streak over her nose – and she really wished she couldn’t.

 

Both Ben’s leather-gloved hands soon went to the bottom of his helmet and pulled it up over his head; tucking it under his arm. Underneath, he looked much the same as he had the other night except he wasn’t smirking – _good_ – and his hair was styled silky-smooth – _bad_. Rey barely had time to be irritated that his hair could stay that well in-place under a tight motorcycle helmet when he spoke.

 

“Parking my bike, what does it look like?” He sounded irritated – not that he had any right to be. Rey noted a slight shadow under his eyes.

 

“This is my space,” Rey said simply, gesturing at the fading number painted onto the tarmac. “See, that’s my number – your space is this one here,” she pointed to the one directly behind her.

 

“You know,” Ben took a step forward and lowered his face to be almost level with hers, faint notes of his smoky aftershave reaching her nose. His voice took on the tone of someone talking to a child, “no one actually checks to see that we’re in the right spots.”

 

“I don’t care. I want to park in _my_ _space_.” It was better protected than his; up against the wall. The only real disadvantage to it was that the local birds liked to perch in the tree above and – as the blotchy state of the surrounding tarmac would attest – use it as a lavatory.

 

“Do you have any idea how childish you sound?”

 

He was one to talk.

 

“Listen here, Solo, this is my allocated space, and I would like to park my car in it – do you _really_ have a problem with that?” She put her hands sternly on her hips.

 

There was a beat in which Ben just stood there, staring at Rey with his mouth hanging open. She could practically see the cogs in his head turning. A cool breeze rustled the yellowing leaves still clinging to their branches. Rey could feel the pinpricks over her skin where her sweat started to dry. She crossed her arms and stood her ground, confident that she had won.

 

“Did you just call me ‘Solo’?” He scoffed, the barest hint of that infuriating grin quirking the corner of his mouth upward.

 

Rey groaned in exasperation. “Do. You. Have. A. Problem. With. That?”

 

“With the,” – this time he actually did air-quotes with his free hand – “‘Solo’ thing or…”

 

Ben was trying to wind her up on purpose – Rey knew that. The growing smirk – now borderline flirtatious – told her as much. He liked getting under her skin and causing a reaction, that’s all. All she had to do was not give it to him – easier said than done.

 

“Move your stupid bike!” Rey superfluously indicated the offending object by smacking the taillight with the back of her hand; the whole thing answered her back with a creaky wobble. The real trick was not showing how much her knuckles now stung. Rey folded her arms again; burying the burning hand in the crook of her elbow.

 

“Hey!” Ben instantly put a hand to steady the bike. “Don’t touch it.”

 

She was sure he meant it to come off as a threat, but Ben’s little warning only gave Rey an idea. A mischievous grin slid onto her features – Ben promptly looked concerned. _Good_.

 

Keeping her arms crossed, Rey sauntered around so that the bike was now between them. She pulled her best appraising face – pursed lips and squinting eyes – and let her gaze dart over every crevice of the motorcycle.

 

It was a put-together job, but it was a good one. Ben had evidently gotten a hold of a decent set of inner workings, then fitted the partially-scuffed shiny black casing on top. To someone who knew even a tiny bit about bikes, like Rey, it was evident there was no motorcycle on the market like this one. While everything fit together well enough, it clearly wasn’t designed that way. Rey only wondered if the dents and scratches were on the bodywork before or after Ben got his hands on it.

 

Just to make Ben nervous, Rey knelt down by the front tyre – it had the desired effect. Though she didn’t look up, Rey could see his taller-than-average shadow leaning on his forearms over the seat. The bike gave a muffled squeak at the treatment.

 

“What are you doing?” Black-gloved fingers flexed by Rey’s ear.

 

She continued looking at the place where black panelling became metal workings, a thumb resting against her lips. Making sure Ben was watching her every move without staring straight at him, Rey moved that thumb to run along the inside lip of the panelling. She could feel Ben tense and lean in as she touched his precious bike, and a slight flinch when Rey pulled her thumb away; purposely catching her nail to make a _clack_ noise.

 

“Hmm? Oh nothing, it’s just that I work at a scrapyard – y’know, Plutt’s?” Rey looked up too quickly to realise just how close Ben’s face really was; his nose was less than a couple of inches from hers. Fortunately, she was used to that sort of thing from the folks who brought in scrap, so she was more than able to keep talking no matter how much her pulse thudded in her ears for a few beats. “And I was just wondering how this thing held together because we got one in yesterday that looked just like this and it didn’t run at all.”

 

It was a lie, but it was worth it to see the look of shock and worry flash through Ben’s dark eyes for a second. He evidently wasn’t as good at guarding his features as Rey. The expression was soon gone, and replaced by a hardness in his eyes and a thinning of his lips.

 

“It runs because I make it run – now will you just leave it? I want to go in.” Ben straightened and glared down his nose at the still-crouching Rey. She could see he did _not_ like the idea of leaving with her so close to the bike.

 

“Not until you move this motorcycle.” She stood up as smoothly and gracefully as she could manage – hoping the oil mark on her face did nothing to detract from the desired effect.

 

“You’ve never complained about me parking here before.”

 

“I only just got this car. Didn’t have one before.” She couldn’t have afforded it – could only just afford it now. With her job on the other side of town, though, it was a necessity. Rey gave a cursory glance around. “Why do you want to park here so badly, anyway?”

 

“Why do you?”

 

“Because it’s my space!”

 

They stood there in a stalemate, glaring at each other; each one daring the other to blink first. It was much like their last stare-off. Rey was not going to back down on this – even if she had to drag Ben’s bike over to his space with her bare hands. She guessed that he wasn’t exactly planning out his surrender, either.

 

“It’s the shady spot,” Ben murmured darkly.

 

“Move. The bike,” Rey answered back – gritting her teeth so that she wouldn’t laugh out loud at his reasoning. She assumed it only added to her menacing demeanour.

 

There was another pause. Once she had cooled down, Rey would think that the whole situation had gotten far too extreme for a parking space. At the time, however, she reckoned that hitting his arrogant face probably wasn’t out of the question.

 

She was also coming to appreciate just _how_ dark his eyes were. Two spots of such intense blackness Rey thought he could see right through her. Yet, when he shifted just slightly, and the light managed to get in, there were flecks of a sunnier brown hidden in the abyss. Not that she was giving the qualities of his eyes much thought; just observations. Whatever it was, Rey was paying it more attention than the stare-down. Which was why she was so surprised when he spoke.

 

“ _Ugh_ , fine!” Ben threw his hands in the air. “I’ll move the damn bike – you happy?”

 

“Ecstatic,” Rey replied dryly as Ben remounted the motorcycle. She turned back towards her car.

 

“The guy who had it before you never complained either,” he muttered, not bothering to pull the helmet back on his head.

 

“Sorry, what was that?” The question came out just as sharp as she’d intended, her head whipping around to look at Ben.

 

“The old guy who lived in your apartment before you got here – Lor San Tekka – he didn’t mind me using the space.”

 

Rey didn’t believe him. “Did he have a car?” She asked suspiciously.

 

“No.” Ben shrugged as though that detail shouldn’t matter. Rey just rolled her eyes.

 

“Would have been nice of him to have given me a heads-up about your practice hours.” Rey leant against the hood of her car – still a little warm. She started a little when Ben answered her; not thinking that he could hear her from here.

 

“He died – freak accident. That’s how come the place became available.” His tone was calm as could be – as though a sudden death in the room below his didn’t bother Ben at all. His motorcycle came to life with a sudden roar.

 

Rey had no witty rejoinder for that one. Only a general queasy sensation. She could understand now why the landlord hadn’t said much about the previous tenant and Rey was starting to get the eerie feeling that she was in the start of a horror film. A quick shiver shook most of that away, but she still didn’t like the idea of someone having died in her home.

 

Rey decided she would rather be inside the car than talking to Ben. She sat back in the driver’s seat and waited semi-patiently, fingers tapping arrhythmically on the wheel, for him to move – which, to be fair, he did without any more shenanigans. _Though he shouldn’t have been there in the first place_.

 

When he got off the bike again, less theatrically this time, Ben stomped toward the door of their building – helmet swinging from two fingers. He didn’t even glance back at her. Of course, Rey hadn’t considered for more than a moment that he might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I absolutely pinky-promise Ben won't be a total asshat forever. I just want their relationship to get off to a rocky start - hope you enjoy the ride, and can forgive me.


	3. The Night Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes off directly from the last one, and has the first proper appearance of other characters *gasp*

Rey had barely thrown her car keys clinking into the chipped dish on her side table when her phone buzzed urgently. Calloused fingers dug into her pocket and pulled out the device by the fingertips. She almost dropped it when she tried kicking the door shut with the flat of her foot at the same time. A half-chuckle-half-sigh bubbled out from her throat when Rey saw who it was; Finn.

 

Dumping her backpack down, she took a deep breath to blow out the cobwebs of the day and swiped the answer icon to one side. Holding the phone to her face, warm having been in her pocket, Rey did her best to sound as chirpy as possible, but it was difficult after a full day of work – and then having to deal with Mr Asshole in the car park.

 

“Hey you, what’s up?” She could hear Poe in the background yelling ‘the sky’ with his usual level of enthusiasm; far too much. Rey rolled her eyes and moved her phone from one ear to the other. “Am I on loudspeaker?” She asked wryly, a smile fighting to curl her lips.

 

“Yeah. Am I remembering right that you have the day off tomorrow?”

 

“Yeeeees,” came Rey’s wary reply as she tried to take off her boots with one hand – hopping around the short hallway and bumping against the walls. With one question, Finn had raised all of Rey’s suspicions. More than that, she had a feeling she knew what was coming next.

 

“Good!” He responded much faster than Rey had. “Then you can come out with us?” Finn still had yet to master either Poe or Jess’ skill for, lovingly if forcefully, ordering a friend to indulge a night out – he still asked. Evidently, Poe picked up on that as well.

 

Rey could hear his ‘nononono’ getting louder with every passing second before the phone made an unpleasant, crackling, static-y noise as Poe stole it away from Finn. She took the opportunity to use both hands to get her second boot off – the first having been kicked off and flown in the direction of the door.

 

She distantly heard Poe still speaking to Finn, “you can’t ask her or she will find a way to say no.”

 

Rey’s eyes flicked up in their sockets; she didn’t think she was _that_ bad. The three of them went out sometimes – Rey didn’t _always_ say no. As her second boot finally released her foot, dropping to the floor with a thud, she tried to work out the last time she properly went _out_ somewhere with her friends. She stopped counting after two months and returned to the current conversation.

 

“She _needs_ this,” came Poe’s insistent voice.

 

“When did _you_ become a doctor?” Rey called down the phone at the earliest opportunity, a chuckle worming its way into the question.

 

Her retort was quickly met with a combination of Poe’s easy, warm-as-sunshine, laugh and Finn’s side-splitting cackle. Rey grinned to herself as she finally sank down into the seat of her tatty – Poe liked to call it distressed – sofa, curled against the most threadbare of its arms. She switched her phone to the other side of her face again so that she could pull at the long thread hanging off the corner of the chair’s arm.

 

“I’ll have you know,” – Poe had his mouth much too close to the speaker and the sound sputtered unpleasantly enough that Rey held it away from her face for a bit – “that I happen to be an _expert_ on this; You. Need. A. Break. Non-negotiable. We don’t have to go out to a club or anything but I can’t have you moping around your flat all evening.”

 

“I do not _mope!_ ” Poe didn’t hear her objection.

 

“You can pick anywhere you like, come on, my treat.”

 

 _My treat_ being the magic words. The bastard knew it too.

 

“What’s that dive you like dragging us into?” She asked casually. “That’s not far, is it?” If it was mandatory that she go out – and, honestly, Rey knew Poe was right, she needed to get out – she didn’t want to go far. _There is no way I’m wearing heels, either_ , she thought as she stretched and flexed her aching feet.

 

“ _Thank_ you,” Finn called, “See? Dive.”

 

“It is _not_ a dive!” Rey could practically _hear_ Poe exasperatedly throwing his hands in the air. “Whatever, Rey wants to go there so we’re – no, it’s not that far away Rey – so we’re going!” Rey couldn’t help but smile at how Poe juggled the three-way-conversation.

 

“Okay boys, I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

 

“We’ll come pick you up,” Finn cheerily cut in before Rey even had to ask. “See you then, peanut!”

 

The line went suddenly dead – no static, no background noise, nothing – and Rey flicked the phone on the seat beside her with a small bounce. Truth be told, Rey was surprised the cushion was still that plush.

 

Most of what made up Rey’s apartment was second-hand or scavenged materials; stuff she had picked up, been given, or inherited. Not a single thing matched any other part and, yet, it fit. Rey often found she could relate to mis-matched things.

 

The worn and scuffed sofa that was only just big enough for two sat nestled by a collection of large bean-bags; their various dull shades of faux-fur competing with the once-bright floral pattern sprawling over the two-seater. At least, Rey assumed the two-dimensional collection of stylised wildflowers – bluebells and daisies mostly – had been much brighter in colour when it was new, rather than the desaturated tones it exhibited now. The underside of the cushions generally agreed with her, aside from the sprawling coffee stain; the background of the flowers taking on something nearer a pale sunset-orange colour instead of the sand-like hue Rey saw every day.

 

There was no other official type of seat in the main living area – just an array of upturned crates Rey had used to get her stuff here in the first place. Rey even used a longer one for a makeshift coffee table.

 

Decoration came in the form of postcards – hundreds of them, generally vintage – plastered over every available surface. Rey had decided early-on that she hated the watery-brown of the walls and intended to cover them up any way she could. That notion had soon extended to several of the too-bulky kitchen fittings. The cupboard was the most populated. The postcards she collected from vintage shops, charity shops, and the odd bring-and-buy fair. A few were even ones Poe had sent her. Rey loved each one until it was dog-eared, and knew their place on the walls by heart – though she had never been to a single one of the fantastical locations they depicted. She often had the sinking feeling that she never would.

 

The only additional major piece of actual furniture in the room was the small-sized television; shoved up in the corner and, characteristically, placed on a plinth of crates. It only really got turned on when Finn and Poe came over for a movie night – Rey preferred her radio in the morning and got precious little other spare time. That, of course, was the reason Poe was insisting they all go out tonight.

 

The sound of footsteps stomping across her ceiling reminded Rey of another reason she needed to go out tonight. She found herself following the perceived direction of Ben’s footsteps as he took a meandering path back and forth upstairs. Rey squinted and strained her ears but could only hear the footsteps, no voice. The brief thought wondering what he was doing flitted in and out of her head before Rey had the chance to catch it, even if she wanted to.

 

With a little huff, Rey pushed herself off the sofa; heading for the shower. She wanted to get that oil mark off her face, and anywhere else, before going out. It wasn’t that the place Poe was taking them – Rey was sure it began with an ‘M’ – was particularly swanky; as Rey herself had categorised it, it was a dive. Poe liked the people who ran the place and Finn liked the glowing cocktails. Rey didn’t mind the atmosphere. If you looked past the somewhat unsettling clientele, the smoke, and the ominous little holes and scrapes in the walls. The proprietor collected all sorts of knick-knacks, banners, furniture, and pictures from all over the world – these being scattered liberally about it the place. Rey saw it much like if her postcards had come to life.

 

Rey had to squeeze into her bathroom. While the rest of her flat could be described as far from spacious, the bathroom was, at most, the size of a broom cupboard. The was just enough room for a shower and a toilet – no sink – and a towel rail hugging the wall. The pastel-yellow tiled room was protected from the merciless spray of the shower by a single, translucent curtain hanging off a rickety plastic pole above and an inch-and-a-half-high wall denoting where the water was supposed to go. Rey often thought that someone should have informed the water of this fact.

 

Now on her own without the distraction of her friends on the other end of the phone – clothes discarded by the bathroom door and shower pouring cool water over her burning skin – Rey’s mind could wander. She followed her thoughts down a path that had her mulling over something Ben had said that afternoon; reminded by the sound of his foot-stomps.

 

_He died – freak accident. That’s how come the place became available._

 

Lor San Tekka.

 

Rey wondered just what sort of freak accident it had been; electrocution? Something fall on him? Some kind of weather phenomenon?

 

_Did he slip in the shower?_

 

Rey’s hand darted out and she immediately shut off the water with a deft twist of her wrist. She shivered as the air started drying the frigid drips from her unprotected skin. Pushing aside the flimsy curtain, Rey reached for her towel and patted herself dry, as though that could halt the spinning in her mind.

 

 _Someone died in this flat_.

 

Rey shook her head sharply to dispel the idea. There was nothing in what Ben had said that indicated or implied San Tekka had died in the building at all. Even if he had, that didn’t mean anything; people die all the time, it was no big deal. No need to freak out. Rey took a couple of steady breaths.

 

She practically leapt out of her skin when the buzzer for the door downstairs went off. _Have I really been in here that long?_

 

Clutching the towel around her torso, Rey strode back to where the short hall opened out into the main room – vaguely aware that she could no longer hear Ben’s footsteps – and shoved her thumb against the speaker button on the wall. It only occurred to her after she had done it that she hadn’t bothered to dry her thumb first.

 

“Hey guys.”

 

“Heeey!” They both answered at the same time – and so did someone else.

 

“Jess, is that you?” She frowned, shifting on her feet as she did. If it was Jess then there was no way she was surviving the night in one piece; the Dameron-Pava drinking contests were the stuff of legend and, somehow, Rey always got dragged into them.

 

“Guilty as charged, hon,” – Rey almost groaned – “are you coming down anytime soon?”

 

“I’ll be down in a sec, okay?” Rey tried running a hand through her hair but it just caught on a tangle and flicked water everywhere.

 

“Buzz us in,” said Finn, “we can wait up there.”

 

Rey glanced down at herself quickly before answering. “Uh… I won’t be that long – hang on!”

 

Heedless of anything else the others might have said, Rey dashed into her room. The towel around her body was soon haphazardly swept up on her head – hair caught between the twists. She went to her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of tan crop jeans and one of her folded cream shirts. It was her staple go-to outfit and comfy as anything. Finn would probably complain that she wasn’t trying out something with a bit more colour – Jess definitely would – but that could wait for an evening when Rey had the energy to put in effort. Tonight, all she was interested in was spending time with her best friends and forgetting that she would, eventually, have to return to Plutt’s scrapheap.

 

Next, she dipped her feet into her other pair of boots – the ones without grease-stains on them – while combing her hair. It was an art she had had to perfect since meeting Finn, who could keep time like a Swiss clock. Rey was generally just glad when she made it somewhere. Since she didn’t have time to dry it, Rey just pulled her brown hair back into the three buns she wore during the day.

 

Before leaving her room, Rey grabbed a shoulder bag and flippantly stuffed purse, phone, and lipgloss she would forget to use, into it. The long, sleeveless taupe jacket she snatched from the back of the doorway was the last thing. Then it was just keys, lock the door, and go.

 

As expected, Jess, in an electric-blue tank top, raised the point of Rey’s neutral wardrobe choices. Finn just pulled her in for a quick hug then gently steered her into Poe’s newly-washed car – whining when Jess called shotgun.

 

When the four of them got there – ‘ _Maz’s Palace_ ’ it was called, Rey knew it began with an ‘M’ – Rey, Jess and Finn were in charge of table-hunting while Poe went to go charm the bartender into serving him a little quicker. The usual division of labour to start a night.

 

The table they managed to squeeze onto, after pinching a couple of stools, was in the more well-lit area between the bar and the dancefloor; encircled on all sides by other populated tables. Smoke floated up all around and no one was at all interested in seeing who was sitting at the next table. It was a good spot for blending-in, less good for getting to-and-from the bar.

 

“Poe will just have to try _charming_ the chairs out of the way,” Jess sarcastically replied when Rey mentioned it.

 

“Hey, that’s no way to talk about your boss.” Poe leaned down and carefully deposited the various drinks around the table – Finn’s glowed blue.

 

“That was quicker than normal,” Rey stated, closing her lips around the skinny lemon-yellow straw sticking out of her glass. A cool sweetness flooded her mouth, followed by the warmth of citrus and rum. The young woman closed her eyes as the drink flowed down her throat.

 

“Kole is on the bar tonight,” Poe jerked his head back towards the dark-haired guy making serving five drinks at once look easy – or that was what Rey thought he was doing. “You know he has a bit of thing for me.”

 

“Should I be concerned about this?” Finn’s voice went up by several octaves. He turned to Rey, sitting at his right elbow. “I feel like this is something I should be concerned about.”

 

Rey patted his arm in as much a pretence of support as Finn was giving a pretence of upset. Poe was already laughing. He smacked his hand on the table and leaned in to drop a kiss on Finn’s cheek.

 

“You have absolutely nothing to be concerned about.” The dregs of his laughter still shook his shoulders from time to time as he sat and sipped his beer. Poe was always one for teasing. Looking over at the pair of them, Rey guessed the very genuine smile on Finn’s face was worth it.

 

Lifting her Mai Tai away from the cracked table top, Rey leaned back in her seat and raised it back to her mouth – anticipating and then enjoying the mix of flavours on her tongue. If it weren’t Poe’s treat – and he earned more than any of the rest of them at the table – Rey would have ordered something much simpler but it was her night off. Someone else could worry about being responsible; probably why Poe was drinking so slowly.

 

Drink in hand, she turned to look at the dancefloor; a few figures spun and jumped in front of the platform. The platform being where a band played most nights. This evening, there was a guy with a mixdeck in front of him. It was still relatively early and he wasn’t playing that loud – just a reverberating beat thumping through the ground. Later, however, Rey was certain she wouldn’t be able to hear herself think.

 

“So, come on then,” Rey turned when she heard Jess’ voice – punctuated only by sips of her own drink. “What ridiculous, awful, outrageous thing did your blobfish of a boss make you do today?”

 

Three pairs of eyes eagerly fixed on Rey, awaiting her response. It had become sort of a ritual with them; Rey easily had the worst boss of anyone here so she would get the gossip-ball rolling then Finn would cut in with some compromising position in which he caught a couple of the other student teachers, or something one of the kids from his placement school said.

 

Being a trainee teacher certainly had its moments but Finn swore he wouldn’t give it up for anything; certain that if _he’d_ had better support in school he would never have got mixed up with some very unpleasant people. He had never told her more than that and Rey hadn’t asked.

 

For half-a-second Rey considered telling them that, actually, something more unbelievable than being asked to move a wheel-less truck without using the crane had happened this afternoon. She thought about telling them about Ben and his stupid motorbike. In fact, why not tell them? They would agree with her, he was a jerk.

 

“Right, so there was this…” Rey was going to tell them, she was. “There was this truck, right? And Plutt wanted me to-” Her story froze in her mouth when she saw Finn’s expression change suddenly; from cheery to angry. No, not angry – livid.

 

After her, Poe noticed most quickly the change in his boyfriend’s demeanour. Jess only caught on when Rey’s expression was sufficiently concerning. Immediately, the table’s attention switched from Rey to Finn.

 

“Finn?” Jess reached out for his hand.

 

Only Poe thought to look over Rey’s shoulder at the dancefloor. At the widening of his brown eyes, the two girls soon followed suit.

 

They saw a gang of people, all similarly dressed in black and white clothes – if it weren’t for the modest array of styles, Rey would swear it was an uniform. They strode across the dancefloor until they took up most of it. At the centre of their clustered formation was a striking blonde monolith in high heels. What she needed the heels for, Rey hadn’t the slightest idea – the woman was easily six feet tall. If not taller.

 

“Okay, okay,” Poe’s voice was low and soothing. Looking back, Rey saw the man had his arm protectively around Finn’s shoulders. “She hasn’t seen you, do you want to leave?”

 

Though Rey desperately wanted to know who the woman was, she was considerably more concerned about Finn’s wellbeing. Her questions would have to wait.

 

“No, no,” Finn sounded a lot more together than Rey had been expecting. “I want to dance.”

 

Poe actually had to do a double-take at that. “You want to _what_ now?”

 

“Dance. The music’s good now. I want to go out there and dance with my friends – she means _nothing_ to me.” He started pushing his chair out and standing up. “It just surprised me to see her here, that’s all.”

 

Finn clumsily edged his way around the chairs and tables – there was no other way to do it from here – and made his way to where others were dancing to the ever-louder music. Jess shrugged and followed him but Rey grabbed Poe by the elbow of his brown and orange jacket.

 

“What’s going on?” The question escaped her mouth as more of a plea; if there was something that was upsetting Finn in any way, she needed to know how to fix it and who to punch. Even if that meant picking a fight with a titan.

 

Poe snatched a glance in the direction Finn had taken and Rey could see he was considering pulling away from her entirely. She would have let him, to support Finn, but if she could get answers now that would be much preferable in her book. Poe distractedly ran a hand through his curls – tousling them even more if that was possible.

 

“Okay, you see that woman there?”

 

“Who doesn’t?”

 

“That is Phasma and those goons around her are her troopers.” At Rey’s puzzled expression, Poe sighed. “The people who used to push Finn around – completely manipulated him. _She_ basically tried to brainwash him.”

 

From the sounds of it, she almost succeeded.

 

“Is he safe out there?” Rey’s fingers involuntarily tightened on Poe’s arm.

 

“Yeah, if we stick with him.” Between the hurried glances in Finn’s direction, Poe mustered a brave smile for Rey. She could tell, however, that he was worried for Finn. A fact of which Rey was aware mostly because she felt it too. “He’s strong, he can handle it.”

 

Rey released Poe from her grasp and followed him out onto the floor, where Finn and Jess were already jumping in time with the heavy beat. Soon, Poe and Rey joined in the dancing, though the room was bathed in smoke and the humidity kicked up by so many sweating bodies. Nothing mattered to the four of them but each other and the music – Rey was more than happy for that to be the case.

 

Throughout the night, Finn never noticed that Phasma kept shooting him withering glances; and Rey never noticed that, next to the imposing blonde, stood Ben Solo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be using my notes mostly for promises at the moment but here's another one: I promise Ben will be in the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed this one anyway!


	4. Daylight Robbery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I didn't update sooner - work is stressing me out like nothing on earth. In light of that, let's have a bit of silliness, hmm?

Rey yawned. It was a long and drawn-out thing, fixing her jaw unavoidably open, more akin to a slow-motion gasp than anything else – a muted, high-pitched whine accompanying it from the back of her throat. Her eyes squeezed tight-shut throughout the whole thing, a few barely noticeable drops of moisture wetted her eyelashes. These she wiped roughly away with the back of her hand.

 

It was the fifth one like that in half an hour.

 

They had ended up staying out the whole night and most of the morning. Rey was incredibly grateful that she didn’t have to work today. Finn, however, did. That being the reason she was now queuing in Poe’s corner patisserie with her best friend at seven-thirty in the morning.

 

“You didn’t have to get up this early, y’know.” Finn said for the hundredth time.

 

She answered him first with a wave of her hand – an action mostly to disguise the fact that she was stifling another yawn. Without even looking at Finn’s face, Rey knew that wouldn’t placate him, so she cleared her throat and hoped her voice was starting to sound a little less raspy than when they had met up earlier.

 

“I wanted to,” – definitely clearer this time – “We don’t go out for breakfast much, I thought it’d be a nice treat.”

 

What Rey didn’t say – and sort of hoped Finn wouldn’t work out – was that this was her way of making up for running into Phasma and her gang the night before. She felt responsible because it was Rey who suggested they go to _Maz’s_ in the first place. Rationally, she knew that if she told any of her friends how she felt, they would assure her it wasn’t her fault. Rey also knew, deep down, that they would be right. That wasn’t about to stop her from buying Finn a consolatory éclair, though.

 

Finn didn’t seem to mind the excuse she gave. With Finn, if he got food out of it, he was generally okay with it. That being a predilection that had only gotten worse since he’d been dating Poe – Poe who had inherited a whole patisserie from his parents.

 

Finn had stumbled into the place on its reopening under Poe’s management – so had Rey. Poe was, inadvertently, the reason they had met at all; munching over a couple of pain au chocolats. Finn swore he fell in love with the pastries long before he looked twice at Poe. Whenever he said that, however, Rey had to hold back a wry grin and push away all the memories of Finn coming back to her old flat, outside town, telling her about something the Poe said or the new shirt that Poe got or the different brand of cinnamon Poe was using. Either way, the trainee teacher was now considerably pickier about his pastries than he had ever been before.

 

It was a cosy place, a minimal number of tables pressed against the large glass shopfront with most of the elongated space taken up by the shiny cooler containing everything from mille-feuille to macaroons to conejito to cupcakes. On one side of the cooler was the polished, dark grey stone counter that was sometimes used to make the pastry during quieter hours of the day – Poe was somewhat of a performance artist when it came to his cooking. On the other side was the chrome cashier’s desk.

 

Apparently, when Poe had taken the shop over from his parents, it was still crammed full of its original eighties furniture and décor. Poe wanted to keep the feel of it but tidy away the more tired-looking items. Almost everything was new; new brightly-coloured round tables, new equally vibrant chairs, new parquet flooring. The only original thing he kept was the lovingly cared-for jukebox sitting in the corner.

 

“Well, what are you gonna have then?” The queue having moved forward enough now, Finn started peering at the array of delights presented in the glass-covered cooler. Rey was still amazed that Poe managed to find so many different ways to combine cream and pastry.

 

“Don’t know. Maybe I’ll let Jess pick for me.” Rey risked rubbing her eyes again now that Finn was concentrating on something else.

 

He didn’t so much as look up. “Mmm… she’s not on till.”

 

“What?” She turned her head to squint up to the front of the queue; sure enough, the Asian guy with his pudgy fingers hovering over the till’s buttons was most definitely _not_ Jessika Pava.

 

“Must have an even worse hangover than you,” Finn teased, throwing a mischievous smirk sideways at her.

 

“I do _not_ have a hangover!”  She nudged him gently in the ribs with her elbow – taking it also as an opportunity to budge him out the way and have a look at the selection herself.

 

“Whatever you say, Peanut.”

 

Rey had to force herself to ignore the smug tone in his voice. How he was apparently so unaffected by their late night was completely beyond her. It wasn’t fair that he could dance the night away then sleep for less than three hours and still be so lively – or, at the very least, awake.

 

Rey’s hazel-green eyes sluggishly tripped over the little cards Poe had written out in his slanted, borderline-scrappy handwriting, describing everything on offer. To her exhausted mind, the letters all swam together and none of it was decipherable. The cards were of questionable legibility at the best of times with Poe’s writing. Her gaze then alighted on something large and chocolatey. That would do.

 

“The muffin – I’m going for the muffin.” She affirmed the statement with a nod, glancing back at the solitary chocolate muffin that would soon be hers; moist chocolate sponge with thumbnail-sized chocolate chunks sticking out of the top. Knowing Poe, there was also a good chance of a melty, gooey inside to the paragon of heart-attacks sitting on the counter. Just two more customers and then it would be Rey’s turn and…

 

A pair of silvery metal pincers slid out either side of the muffin and clamped down, crushing its spongy sides sharply inwards and knocking off a few crumbs at the edges. Rey felt her mouth fall open and her eyes widen while she watched, helplessly, as the sweet treat receded backwards from the front of the glass.

 

She followed its path, wide-eyed, as the cashier placed it on one of Poe’s curvy-square plates and pushed it across the counter towards its intended recipient. Rey craned her neck around the tall woman with the gargantuan handbag in front of her to see who the cause of her early-morning despair was – she imagined at least horns, if not a pointy tail. She was all-but leaning on the glass front of the cooler, stretching her toes as much as she could, when she saw _exactly_ who it was.

 

_Ben Solo._

_Not far off with the horns, then._

 

He was wearing huge sunglasses that took up half his face – no mean feat – and a white t-shirt with creases veining the back of it. Under his arm was his motorcycle helmet and black leather jacket. His dark hair was in its usual preposterously glossy and styled order, despite Ben carelessly running a hand through it. He looked as much an early-bird as Finn, which did nothing to endear him to the young woman he had just deprived of a muffin.

 

Rey glared at the back of his head with all her might as he slipped across a handful of miscellaneous coins that just about came up to the amount for his muffin and espresso together. She even watched him take his spoils away from the cashier and meander off to grab one of the few seats. It took Finn a great deal of shaking to pull her attention back to the front of the queue – at which they had now arrived.

 

“Rey? Rey, we need to order.”

 

She snapped her head back with an expression that made the cashier start backwards a little. Finn, being used to her moods in the morning, hardly blinked.

 

“What do you want?” Finn tried patiently again, doing his best to stand between Rey and the rest of the exasperated queue who just wanted to get their breakfast croissants and go.

 

Rey frowned at the left over choices offered by the quietly humming cooler as though they somehow offended her by not being the mouth-wateringly sweet triple-chocolate muffin the Lord High Bastard Himself had just pilfered. It didn’t take too long, however, for a finger to jut out in the direction of the jam-and-custard tarts.

 

Finn’s éclair already sat patiently on its own little cream-coloured plate while the cashier retrieved Rey’s choice and slid its plate gratingly over the counter. Rey insisted on paying, Finn wasn’t about to argue with her.

 

They picked their way along the thin path of free floor between the remaining queuers and the chairs – both empty and occupied – to reach the door and, by extension, the outdoor seating. While it wasn’t too bad inside the patisserie, Rey decided she wanted – perhaps needed – the breeze on her face. A day-off wasn’t much good to her if she spent most of it huddled under her duvet with a headache.

 

It was a fair enough day, even if it was too early for Rey to appreciate it all that much. A light rain had wetted the ground overnight and cleared the air for a cool and sunny morning. Finn had pointed all this out to Rey as they had left her apartment block – she had nodded whenever he stopped talking in the hopes that that was the correct response. Now they sat with the sunlight gently warming their legs where they poked out from under the striped canopy that clung to the bricked exterior of Poe’s patisserie.

 

“What was all that about? In there? You, going all murder-eyes because the muffin went before you got there,” Finn asked over the lip of his coffee cup.

 

“It didn’t just…!” Rey stopped when she realised how loud her voice was. She dropped down to a harsh whisper. “It didn’t just _go_ , it was _taken_.”

 

“Rey, peanut, you’re kinda worrying me here.”

 

“ _He_ heard me talking about it and took it _on purpose!_ ” When the coffee she was nursing finally kicked-in, even Rey would realise how paranoid she was sounding. For the time being, however, she was getting somewhat frustrated with Finn’s increasingly-concerned facial expression.

 

“He who?”

 

“ _Him_ he,” Rey answered, nodding exaggeratedly over Finn’s shoulder to where Ben was idly picking at the chocolatey delight he clearly wasn’t enjoying as much as Rey would have. “Don’t _look!_ ” She added when Finn went to turn around.

 

The design of the building in which the patisserie was situated was such that seating arrangement were severely limited in comparison to other establishments. Inside were four tables – if the customers didn’t mind being a bit friendly – and outside were three. Rey and Finn sat on the one nearest the door, Ben was at the other extreme. With no one on the middle table between them it would have made turning around very noticeable.

 

Finn huffed and rolled his eyes. “If I don’t look, how am I supposed to know who you’re talking about?”

 

Rey simply mouthed “don’t look” theatrically back at him while tearing off a piece of her tart. Finn watched her shove that in her mouth and wash it down with some coffee before deciding to try another tack.

 

“Okay, well, how do you know him?”

 

“Hm?” Rey had since had another mouthful of tart and was halfway through chewing it when her friend spoke.

 

“He wouldn’t just take against you for no reason. So; how do you know him?” Finn gulped down some coffee as he waited. Rey was still too caught up in her whorl of grogginess and irritation to notice that her friend was only humouring her until she calmed down a bit.

 

“ _He_ ,” she jerked her chin in Ben’s direction again for emphasis, “is the arse that lives in the flat above mine.”

 

“Drummer-boy?”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

“Aaaaand he would want to order something just to spite you because…?” Finn raised his eyebrows expectantly.

 

“Look, he hates me – makes that _abundantly_ clear. All the time, he just…”

 

Rey’s words evaporated on her tongue as she witnessed – with unutterable horror – Ben abandoning at least a third of the muffin he had withheld from her. Some of it was even the top part, with the chocolate chunks. The Jerk just pulled on his jacket and left. Rey didn’t even stop Finn turning in his seat to get a peek at the scene.

 

Ben – the Bastard – didn’t look back at the unfinished muffin oozing chocolate syrup over the paper case, flapping pathetically in the slight breeze. Rey, on the other hand, went to get out of her brightly-coloured chair. Only Finn’s quick, light grasp around her wrist halted her movements.

 

“What are you doing?” Finn gave her a pointed look.

 

“I’m going to finish that muffin.” Her reply came back hot on the heels of her friend’s question, and in a tone that made it seem perfectly reasonable.

 

For a moment, the two stared at each other; Rey waiting for Finn to break and let her go, Finn trying to gauge her determination as though it was ever anything except complete. In the end, as anticipated, Finn released her wrist with a sigh and Rey scampered down to Ben’s vacated table to salvage what was left of the muffin. She soon brought back her prize and plonked happily down opposite Finn, hardly waiting before shoving a piece of it in her mouth and moaning.

 

It was the perfect level of moist; not too crumbly or sticky. Though Rey did manage to get a lot on her fingers. The chocolate flavour was smooth and sweet – followed by the rich taste of the syrup. If she wasn’t much mistaken, Rey thought she could detect hints of caramel worked into that thick elixir. Each chunk of chocolate Rey bit through – Ben _had_ left some – exploded bittersweet in her mouth.

 

“This,” she said between chews, “is the best muffin… I have ever tasted… I swear.”

 

“ _That_ ,” crowed a silky voice from beside them, “is called stealing.”

 

Rey scowled up at the person casting a shadow over their table before she had even registered who it was that spoke. Truth be told, she had had a pretty good idea.

 

Ben stood with his arms folded and his hips cocked to one side. An eyebrow raised over his roguish, glinting eyes. His sunglasses rested halfway down his nose and Rey couldn’t help but wonder if it wouldn’t be easier if he just took them off. _But that wouldn’t look as ‘cool,’ would it?_ she thought.

 

Rey swallowed the last bit of muffin she had been savouring. “You didn’t want it. You walked off.” She tilted her head to the side. “Where’s your helmet?” She asked innocently.

 

In a flowing motion, Ben unfurled his leather-clad arms and produced the helmet he had hooked around his side. Rey was annoyed that her smooth change in subject seemed to have backfired.

 

She refused, however, to be intimidated by him. She had only taken what the Ass didn’t want – he was the one being weird in doubling-back to call her on it. At least she felt her minor paranoia was validated now. Rey tilted her chin up and popped a morsel of the chocolate sponge into her mouth, the hint of a smirk curling her lips as the smooth taste hit her tongue.

 

Ben’s eyes narrowed fractionally – Rey would take that as a victory.

 

Until he asked her, “how was your night out?”

 

The shock of the thought that Sir Broody-pants was aware of her movements last night, resulted in a considerably less-than-desirable situation for Rey. A sudden, ill-conceived intake of breath sucked a crumb of the food she had been enjoying down her windpipe, rendering Rey nigh-on incapable of breathing. She was then left with two alternatives; choke and splutter and generally make a fool of herself, or attempt to move the crumb through a series of subtle coughs and swallows. Rey opted for the latter. The drawback of this then was that Rey couldn’t speak without setting off the coughing fit and was steadily turning beetroot red.

 

Both Finn and Ben frowned at her – one concerned, the other curious. Rey had the distinct feeling that at least one of them – probably both – had sussed out what had happened. She reached slowly for her coffee, careful not to move her head too much, in an effort to alleviate the circumstances, though she had only ever found that water actually worked in such cases. All the while, the offending crumb scratched and burned inside her throat.

 

As she raised the coffee cup to her lips, Rey couldn’t take it anymore and risked a light cough. That was almost a disaster as her lungs then felt like they were caving-in and her throat was closing up. Hot coffee splashed over the table and, judging from the sudden patch of warmth on her thigh, on Rey. She thought she heard Finn asking if she was alright but Rey couldn’t be sure. There was nothing for it but a decent cough and a swig of coffee. That series of actions being easier with a colder beverage than she had now. As it was, the itch of the crumb was overcome with the burning of the coffee.

 

Rey cleared her throat, as discreetly as she could with two men staring at her, another couple of times before she finally felt ready to give Ben a response. Finn had already mopped up the small spill with a fistful of paper napkins.

 

“Since when…” her voice was wiry, croaky, and altogether much worse than it had been when she had woken up that morning. She had another gulp of coffee before trying again. “Since when do you care about what I do?”

 

He shrugged, as though he hadn’t noticed what had just happened. “I don’t, just noticed you got back late last night – or this morning, whatever.”

 

There was something in the way he said it, something that Rey just caught flickering in his eyes over the rims of his shades that made her think something was off. It was Finn, however, who answered.

 

“It was great.” There was his habitual sunny smile. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met, my name’s Finn.” He extended an open hand toward Ben.

 

Ben regarded the outstretched hand much as he might have regarded a poisoned dish. He didn’t recoil away, but he didn’t reach forward either. Instead, he gave a restrained nod; black waves of hair bouncing with the movement.

 

“Well, I’d better go, anyway.” Ben’s foot shifted back away from the table, his tone kept even and informative. “I’ve got the early shift.”

 

“Okay.” Rey’s reply was clipped; all the better to encourage him to go away. She was more interested in picking apart the remaining chunk of muffin sitting on her plate than paying him any more mind.

 

It had the desired effect; Jerkface stalked off, leaving Finn and Rey in peace. The sun was still shining and the muffin was still delicious – Rey was even starting to wake up a bit.

 

“He’s certainly not going to win any congeniality contests anytime soon.” Finn’s voice interrupted the white-noise of urban life around them.

 

“So you see what I me-” Finn’s upheld finger interrupted her sentence. Rey did nothing to supress the grin at him donning his teacher-tricks outside the classroom.

 

“He’s not very friendly.” Finn put down his finger, quickly raising it again when he could see Rey about to interject. “But there is no way he purposely took that muffin because he heard you saying you wanted it.”

 

“Finn!”

 

“Mmm-mm, there is no way-” chuckles started creeping in between his words then – cracks lighting up his false severity. “There is no way he heard you through all that hair.”

 

Rey was utterly unprepared for the bark of laughter that shot out of her throat. The pair of them sat there rocking back and forth with laughter for – probably – much longer than the comment warranted. Rey figured they could chalk it up to early-morning haze if they really wanted.

 

Recovering themselves, Finn and Rey finished their breakfast jovially and left the corner patisserie, carefully avoiding the man next door hose-washing the pavement outside his own shop. They walked between low brick buildings to the end of the road together; where Rey would turn right back to her apartment and Finn would turn left to catch the bus to the school. Just as they were parting ways, Finn’s eyes lit up.

 

“Oh, final thing, Poe will kill me if I don’t remind you; don’t forget movie night _this_ Friday, okay?” The look on his face was one much more serious than strictly required by his question. “Poe, me and Jess will be over about eight.”

 

“Yes, alright,” Rey assured, pushing Finn towards his bus-stop when she saw the elongated vehicle bumpily round the corner. “This Friday. Movie night. I won’t forget.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are exactly zero prizes for guessing exactly what Rey does next chapter re: movie night. I can't always be unpredictable y'know.
> 
> Rey's choking here is based on something I do when out in public and trying not to make a scene - I do not recommend it as an effective way to get rid of crumbs from your windpipe, so that you know.


	5. Didn't See That Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as the one in which Ben really doesn't know how to handle Rey... actually... that could be most of them.
> 
> Ooo, also - before I forget - this is to my subscribers: I've gone through and added extra little details and paragraphs to the older chapters, if you're interested in that kind of thing, by all means go back and have a look.

She didn’t remember until Finn phoned ten minutes away from her front door. By that time, movie night was shaping up to be a far messier affair than either Poe or Finn had probably anticipated. _Their fault for putting me in charge_ , Rey grumbled internally, throwing another sock into her bedroom.

 

Rey wasn’t an overly untidy person – no one would ever have walked into her flat and thought she had been spending too much time at work, got used to it, and tried to recreate the appearance. On the other hand, neither was she especially neat. She knew where everything was, whether it was away in a cupboard or on her living room floor. That was her brand of organisation. Things got tidied when they needed to be; usually laundry day.

 

Or when she had company over.

 

Through the mad haze of dashing around her apartment tidying – or, rather, hiding – most of Rey’s thoughts stretched to _shitshitshitshitshit_ and little else. Clothes dangled limply off of real furniture and makeshift coffee table alike; little bits of mechanics and the odd half-finished robot littered the floor; most of her dishwashing from the last couple of days still stuck out of the sink at odd angles. She was trying to do all the things a more organized individual – Finn, for example – would have done yesterday. Maybe even the day before. Nothing was going according to plan, any plan, even one that was, essentially, _hide the evidence_.

 

Oh, and Ben was standing in the doorway.

 

“What are you _doing?_ ” He asked, peering around the door.

 

“What do _you_ want?” Rey huffed, not turning at the sound of his voice; she had more pressing issues than Ben bloody Solo. The young woman hadn’t even heard what he said.

 

“I want to know what you are doing.”

 

“‘Get used to disappointment,’” Rey muttered back, gathering up a selection of hefty metal parts from the floor. She couldn’t contain a snort when the memory of the film scene she was quoting flashed through her head, almost dropping one of her better-working actuators.

 

“What’s so funny?” Ben queried from the door.

 

“It’s…” She looked at him in amused bemusement, mouth half open. “Princess Bride? You don’t know Princess Bride?”

 

Ben tutted loudly and rolled his eyes. Long arms folded as he bumped sideways into the doorframe. Obviously, he wasn’t a fan. That didn’t exactly _surprise_ Rey but Princess Bride was, in her opinion, a classic. The thought briefly entered her head, as she was watching Ben, that this was an altogether _odd_ conversation to be having with someone she didn’t much like.

 

It was the first time she had actually looked at Ben since he turned up in her doorway… five minutes ago? Ten? Rey had lost track of time, among other things – that being how the door got left open after her mad dash downstairs to get at least _some_ of her clothes in the laundry room washing machines. The door that Mr Gitfeatures Stupidhair had got the idea to enter.

 

His hair _was_ stupid; all smooth and dark and wavy. Rey only wished Ben took as much care of his manners as he did over that ridiculous hair – his midnight drumming sessions still not having stopped. He was dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved, thin, black jumper. The blacks didn’t quite match, Rey’s hyped-up mind noted quickly; the jeans were a fraction paler. The shadows under his eyes seemed darker than usual, too, but that might have been the lighting in Rey’s apartment, she wasn’t sure.

 

“Princess Bride?” He sniggered – Rey took that as her cue to go back to tidying, remembering that time was not on her side. “Isn’t that some sappy knights-and-damsels thing?”

 

“It’s a _classic!_ ” The young woman called from her bedroom as she heaved the spoils she had gathered onto her bed with a slight bounce, all knocking together noisily.

 

Rey’s room was really starting to resemble the lair of a very peculiar dragon. On her bed was a medium-sized mound of mechanical bits and pieces – only the ones she had already cleaned, greasy, oil-covered stuff was still in the crate shoved _under_ the bed. Surrounding her bed were scatterings of the clothing that had yet to make it all the way into the laundry bin. There were, as yet, patches of her dull oatmeal carpet visible, but not for long.

 

Rey scampered back into the living room and was dismayed to see that there was still more stuff there than she had time to clean up. _Typical_. She decided that her approach of just picking up _something_ and moving it was still the best one – even if it increased the chances of her mislaying something, at least she would do it quickly. Any earlier thought that keeping herself busy might make Ben go away, however, had long-since evaporated.

 

As she spun from picking up a top from her sofa to throwing it through the door to her bedroom, Rey saw Ben take a step into her flat. She was over there like a shot.

 

“No, no, nonononono _no!_ ” a pointed finger jabbed back over to the door. Rey might not mind having bizarre discussions about film taste with him, but she’d be damned if he was coming in while she was trying to tidy.

 

“I take it you want me to leave?” A large grin stretched across Ben’s features. He was enjoying this whole situation far too much, Rey decided.

 

“Let me finish!” She snapped, holding her hand up, palm towards Ben’s face, in an imitation of one of Finn’s methods for getting people to be quiet. He just stared at her in a sarcastic rendition of expectancy. “Get out of my flat!”

 

“Are you finished now?”

 

The cry of frustration Rey gave sounded, even to her ears, more animal than human. “I do not _at all_ have time for this.” Swivelling, she returned to the actual task at hand.

 

She could feel him still lingering at the door, though he made no more move to come in. That would have to suffice for now; Rey was sure she could get rid of him before her friends walked up the stairs. She hoped she could.

 

After a quick reconnoitre of the state of her flat to find the next victim of her cleaning spree, Rey changed her mind, deciding that the smattering of metal bits and pieces on her floor could wait; the kitchen was in much more desperate need of attention. She darted in there and slammed the hot tap on, only shoving the slightly-too-big plug into the mouth of the drain when the water came up to temperature. The dishes, cups, and cutlery were all doused in a healthy layer of pale-amber coloured washing up liquid; the sweet, tangy scent of orange blossom floating up as she did.

 

Rey habitually liked to wash up any cooking utensils, plates, and other varieties of kitchen what-have-you as soon as she had finished using it. In part, this was a remnant of her years being shoved from care home to care home. The one thing she had learned – besides bullies cry when you break their nose – was that a clean plate meant that you could play longer, or go to bed earlier, or generally do anything you would rather be doing than chores. It was practicality, really.

 

Her job at Plutt’s, however, had caused issues with this habit of a lifetime by giving her long shifts that left her with barely the energy left to cook, let alone clean. Rey didn’t even want to think about how much weight she had lost in her time there. Clothes that had once fit comfortably now needed careful cinching so as not to fall off her frame. The worst part of it, as far as Rey was concerned, was the look on her best friend’s face whenever he noticed she’d lost another couple of pounds. She often joked that she would give Finn wrinkles before he was thirty, but she understood his concern.

 

Further away, Rey heard her front door fall into its latch with a gentle _click_.

_Ah good_ , she thought, _he’s got the message_.

 

Rey shut off the water – remembering to turn the handle halfway around again after the water had stopped dripping to make sure she wasn’t woken up in the middle of the night by a distant _drip drip drip_. Her rough hands dived into the bubble-encrusted water, ignoring the stingy, prickling sensation of too much heat, in search of something to rub clean with her spongy little cloth. She usually began with the smaller items to give the plates a little time to soak, so her now-ruddy hand popped back up with a fork.

 

“Are you _sure_ you don’t need a hand?” The sudden intrusion of Ben’s voice – and head – made Rey jump half out of her skin, spraying droplets of bubbly water everywhere.

 

“ _Yes_ , I’m _sure!_ ” Rey said, leaning on the side of the sink and glaring at Ben. She went back to her washing-up with a small, irritated grunt.

 

After a couple of seconds of silence, Rey sharply put down the fork and turned back to her unwarranted guest with a frown. “Why are you so eager to help, anyway?”

 

Ben’s initial answer was a shrug. “You look like you could use it, that’s all.”

 

Rey narrowed her eyes, slowly sliding the fork into the cylindrical part of the drainer. She didn’t trust this sudden neighbourliness one bit. Ben apparently noted her expression and raised his hands in the universal sign of surrender. Rey could see the misshaped holes he had picked in the underside of his sleeves.

 

“What I could _use_ is a good night’s sleep,” she grumbled, thrusting a hand back into the hot, soapy water for something else on which to focus besides Ben.

 

“That would be easier to do if you didn’t keep coming up to see _me_ in the middle of the night.” There it was; he had gone from concerned neighbour to suggestive arsehole in less than thirty seconds. _Why am I not surprised?_

 

Rey turned on him, not caring that more water flew out from her hands when she did. Some of it even, much to her glee, went on Ben’s jeans. Annoyance flickered in his eyes. Rey took the minimal distance between them in two strides, finger once again pointing outward, this time poking him in the chest. She made herself ignore the firm muscle she felt under her jabbing fingertip.

 

“Which I wouldn’t have to do if _you_ didn’t keep playing drums _in the middle of the night!_ ” She drew herself up to her full height, concealing her frustration that she barely reached his nose. “Every night, louder and louder – I’m shocked, honestly, that no one from the next building _over_ comes to complain!”

 

“Well how else would I…” Ben’s raised voice caught abruptly in his throat, like he was choking on the words.

 

Tension trickled through his silence. Dark eyes bulged in his face and his jaw clamped shut. It was like a thought was trying to push itself from his mind to hers and all that was holding it back was Ben’s willpower.

 

Rey looked at him expectantly, when she had said she didn’t have time for this, she really meant it. This ridiculous will-you-won’t-you say… _whatever_ it was, grated harshly on her nerves. In the back of her mind, a small part of Rey wasn’t so sure she wanted to know. She quieted the thought in favour of curiosity.

 

At last, Ben’s shoulders drooped with a heavy sigh and one of his hands reached up to rub at his eyes – it wasn’t the light, Rey decided, the dark shadows there were obvious and heavy. She couldn’t help but think that he could cure that by going to bed at a reasonable hour rather than keeping _her_ awake.

 

His hand dropped again to his side. “How else would I get your attention?” He said softly, looking straight at Rey – the hardness in his eyes had ebbed away, leaving only a lurking memory.

 

Rey had to blink a couple of times. She was certain she _couldn’t_ have heard that right. Maybe adrenaline was finally turning her brain to total mush, or maybe that’s what Ben had said but she was misinterpreting it. The young woman stared at him dumbly for a beat while he didn’t make any move, just waited for her reply. Rey’s shock soon wore out and was replaced by a quickly boiling anger.

 

“How else would you _what?_ ” She growled. Her fingers balled into tight fists of their own accord.

 

Ben appeared surprised by her reaction. _Arrogant bastard_. He at least had the decency to take a cautious step backwards. “I… wanted to talk to you… well, more than that, but I… you wouldn’t look twice at me otherwise, would you?” Rey started to laugh; a cold and mirthless sound – whether shock had returned or panic was now taking over, she wasn’t quite sure. Either way, Ben was still yammering on, and he was starting to sound desperate. “We could be good together, we wouldn’t have to be alone anymore and you… you’re not like other girls, you’re-”

 

“Is this your idea of an attractive proposition?” She sputtered, cutting across anything else he might have said; she didn’t want to hear it. “ _Annoying_ me into seeing you?”

 

Red spots formed in Rey’s eyes and her mess of a kitchen seemed to fade away. Nothing remained but the unjustifiably hurt expression on Ben _fucking_ Solo’s face. The idea came into her head that punching him would be immensely satisfying. It was ridiculous, he was behaving like an utter child; picking on the girl he liked. Rey didn’t know how she felt about _that_ either. Ben liked her. Ben _liked_ her. Her. Rey. It was too preposterous to believe.

 

“That wasn’t what I…” Confusion seeped into Ben’s expression; his forehead creased in a frown as his mouth dropped open.

 

Evidently he was struggling to work out how the situation had gone so spectacularly wrong. _Not how you imagined this conversation going in the shower, huh?_ Rey pushed aside the trifling flutter of pity that tapped at her chest at the sight of him looking so pathetic. She didn’t want to feel anything but revulsion for the jerk at the moment, though whether that was the exact nature of her emotions right now, Rey wasn’t so sure.

 

In need of some form of support, Rey walked steadily back to the sink. She leaned both palms against the side, fingers curling over the lip. The tips of each digit dipped into the still-steaming water; Rey appreciated the tingling feeling spreading up her skin.

 

“I don’t care _what_ you… just… _whatever!_ ” Rey threw her hand out sharply, still not trusting herself to look at the bastard; she hadn’t totally dismissed the idea of punching him. To give her hands something to do, Rey reached through the bubbles to find more dirty cutlery. “You shouldn’t annoy someone you want to _like_ you,” she began, still mad at him. “Or, for that matter, only offer help if you think that _you_ can get something out of it – it isn’t very- AAH! _FUCK!_ ”

 

Rey sprang back from the sink cradling her hand, more water sloshed onto the floor. Pain burned in the soft flesh between her thumb and pointer finger, stretching to the middle of her palm. After putting her hand blindly into the water, Rey’s fingers had closed around the blade of a knife and, inadvertently, pushed the sharp side into her hand. Blood bloomed in the middle of her hand and began the steady drip onto the floor. It wasn’t much, not a serious injury by any stretch of imagination, but it was enough to cause extra hassle for Rey.

 

It was only when she saw the kitchen roll hovering inches from her hand that Rey realised Ben had come over and was trying to help. _Again_.

 

Rey did her best to keep her voice level; low, steady. “Please get _out_ of my apartment.”

 

“I’m trying to help you.”

 

From the tone in his voice, Rey noted, almost clinically, that Ben was close to losing his patience. She was supposed to follow his script, and she hadn’t. Wouldn’t. She refused him. Rey stopped her mind reeling at the thought of all the possible ways this could go badly wrong for her if Ben turned out to be a nastier piece of work than she already thought he was.

 

“Get out, or I will make you get out.” She took on a threatening tone in the assumption that it would get her point across. From the red mist evidently descending over the King of Mood-Swings, it had the anticipated effect.

 

“ _Fine_ ,” he snarled. “I was only trying to be nice-”

 

“You were trying to get me to like you by _aggravating_ me!” Now she did look up at him. She couldn’t understand his logic at all – had he never interacted with another human being before in his _life?_ “I don’t _care_ what the films say – that _isn’t_ attractive… now get _out!_ ”

 

Rey almost shrieked again when she heard the knock at the door. She took opportunity of Ben’s equal surprise to snatch the kitchen towel away from him – despite his silently offended expression – and wrap two or three sheets hastily around her hand. It wasn’t the best solution, but it would have to do. Rey made a mental note to keep the injured appendage behind the door when she opened it so that whichever of their neighbours had had enough of their shouting didn’t get concerned. The last thing she needed was someone calling the cops out because they thought Rey was in danger.

 

It only occurred to her that they hadn’t been _that_ loud as she swung the squealing door open.

 

Standing upright and smiling in the corridor were Finn and Poe: dressed in baggy, soft clothing; Poe’s dark hair falling loose and wild around his head, in sharp contrast to Finn’s well-trimmed crop; the pair of them carrying plastic bags and a couple of Poe’s hiking backpacks, all stuffed with pillows and blankets, no doubt. Both men brought to mind the image of large, two-legged sheep. Rey grinned at the sight of them, relieved that, now, she had the perfect way to get rid of the ass in her kitchen.

 

“Hey, you two, how did you get up here?” Rey welcomed the distraction, still careful to keep her hand and its now-saturated ‘bandage’ from view, though the blood was uncomfortably squelching between her fingers.

 

“On our legs,” chirped Poe as he edged around the woman – the lingering smell of cinnamon following him towards the TV. Somehow he managed not to knock over a single piece of furniture with his bundles of soft furnishings despite the squeeze it was to get him into the apartment at all.

 

“I _meant_ ; you didn’t buzz me to get through the front door.” She called over her shoulder; barely hearing Poe’s drawn-out ‘oohh’ in response.

 

“We got let in by one of the other residents – recognised me.” Finn playfully puffed up his chest a little.

 

“Yes, well, you _are_ a regular celebrity around these parts.” Rey nodded solemnly. She held back the teasing smile as long as she could before it crept onto her face and evolved into an infectious laugh that had Finn grinning from ear to ear.

 

As the giggles subsided, Rey started to take cushion bags from her friend to help him into her flat, trying not to make any complaint about how the bag handles pushed against her cut. While Poe could navigate her narrow hall without touching anything, they all knew that Finn was not quite as nimble and would need help with the remaining collection of bags. Maybe Poe was just magic.

 

“Come on, slow pokes, I’m already half done with the pillow fort.” Poe said from behind Rey, seizing a couple of bags from her and practically skipping back to the main room with them.

 

The man may have been over thirty years old, but there was, apparently, no telling _him_ that. Luckily, neither Finn nor Rey minded their friend’s little eccentricities.

 

They both turned to follow Poe when Rey felt the wrist of her bad hand get grabbed. Finn tugged her back around and raised the poorly-wrapped hand to see it better. The temporary ‘bandage’ was now soaked through with dark red where it touched the inside of her hand. Finn wrinkled his nose as he attempted to unravel the sheets of kitchen roll and just ended up tearing away chunks of sodden paper. Rey tried not to wriggle or flinch as the rough paper rubbed painfully against her cut.

 

When Finn at last saw the wound, he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

 

“How did you do this?” His tone was mixture of concern and ire. “Rey?”

 

“It was just a stupid accident.” She shook her head, waving her free hand nonchalantly. “I’ll clean and dress it in a minute,” _if I can find my first aid kit_ , “promise.”

 

“You need to be more careful, Rey, this kind of thing can get infected y’know.” The note of firmness had yet to leave his voice. Although she was tempted to remind him he wasn’t her mother and she wasn’t a child, Rey knew he had a point.

 

“I know.” She admitted, taking back her hand and closing the door behind her friend. “Where’s Jess, I thought she’d be coming tonight?”

 

“Nah.” Finn slid easily into the change of subject, apparently satisfied – for now – that Rey was okay. He shrugged. “She got a hot date.”

 

“Nice work if you can get it, huh?” Rey chuckled back – Finn nodded at her, grinning.

 

As she led back towards the TV, Finn in tow, Rey saw that Poe had stopped dead in his tracks. Bags of pillows gathered at his ankles. His face was in a state of what Rey could only describe as bewilderment. It took her less than a second to realise he was staring straight through to her kitchen. Straight at Ben. At last, an uncertain smile tugged at one side of Poe’s mouth.

 

“My God… Ben?” Rey would freely admit, that wasn’t what she expected to hear. Poe took a step forward as he continued. “What are _you_ doing here I- I didn’t know you and Rey knew each other.”

 

By this time, Rey and Finn had rounded the corner – Finn growing more and more curious by the second. As his warm brown eyes found the awkward figure of Ben Solo half-in, half-out of the kitchen, Finn’s eyebrows were almost lost in his hair. One questioning glance from him, and Rey had decided she’d had enough; Lord Bastard had to go.

 

“He lives upstairs,” Rey answered for him, hardening her voice to let Ben know that upstairs was where he should be _right now_.

 

“Yeah.” His response was clipped, dark eyes darting almost nervously between everyone around him – Poe he seemed to regard as something out-of-place, the way his brows knit together. Wherever his eyes went, they always came back to Rey. “I should be going.” He said to her.

 

Poe opened his mouth to speak again. “You could-”

 

“No. I’m leaving.” Ben said ungently, gaze only leaving Rey for a heartbeat.

 

Poe barely reacted; just a noncommittal smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared. Unlike Rey, who was unutterably relieved that Ben didn’t hear out Poe’s suggestion – almost certain that it would have been for the git to stay and watch the film. Poe could be a bit like that; overgenerous. Usually one of Rey’s favourite traits, where Ben was concerned, however, she had no need of it.

 

Ben didn’t even wait to be shown out, simply went for the door. Rey followed him a couple of steps, then thought better of it. He barely even twisted back to look at the trio; a flash of glittering dark eyes down the short hallway then the door was pulled sharply shut. Rey was still frozen, watching the space where Ben had gone when Finn cleared his throat to speak.

 

“What was that all about?”

 

Rey turned to see her two friends staring questioningly at her. She didn’t quite know how to answer them – she didn’t want either of them worrying over her for nothing. She could handle anything Gitfeatures upstairs chose to throw at her; she didn’t think she could so easily handle either Finn or Poe picking a fight with him. A course of action she wasn’t certain they wouldn’t take if they knew what had gone on just before they arrived.

 

The more pressing question, to her mind, was; how did Poe and Ben even know each other. It hadn’t been the warmest of reunions, sure enough, but the recognition was undeniable – even on Ben’s side.

 

“Nothing, really, just about his stupid drums again.” Rey schooled her face not to give way to any slight hint that that wasn’t the whole truth. The others appeared to accept it.

 

“Oh, okay.” Poe disappeared into the kitchen clutching far too many bags of popcorn and three _large_ plastic bowls all slotted one inside the other. “I’ll do the popcorn on, then!” He called back. There was a pause. “Rey, do you want me to finish the washing up?”

 

“No!” She shouted in return. “I’ll be there in,” – she looked at the blankets and pillows, into which Finn was already diving – “A minute.”

 

Rey wanted to follow Poe and ask about Arsehole Solo. For the moment, however, it was obvious that Finn – now only visible as a moving lump under a star-patterned, blue-and-green fleece blanket – needed a hand with the ‘fort’ that Poe wanted built. The construction being what had now completely swallowed anything recognisable in her flat, except the TV, of course. She didn’t even know where they got all the stuff to make it – having been to both their apartments several times and never having seen this many pillows.

 

 _Here we go_ , Rey smiled to herself, joining Finn in the tangle of blankets.

 

Rey and Finn were in the middle of a discussion about the virtues of shape versus stuffing density in a supporting cushion when they were interrupted by the sound of drumming coming from upstairs. It was an erratic beat; practically arrhythmic. Underlying the intermittent bangs and crashes, however, Rey could hear a rhythm not unlike a stuttering heartbeat. At the time, she was hardly in any mood to be appreciating the finer details of Ben’s drumming. Rey groaned her frustration out. Finn looked around, confused.

 

“ _This_ is what he does?”

 

“You should try sleeping through it,” Rey answered wryly. A quick glance around told her that, regardless of the outcome of their architectural discussions, Finn could probably manage from here. “You alright to carry on – I’ve got to get that washing.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, all good here, peanut.” Finn smiled. “Watch that hand.”

 

“Right on, Boss,” Rey mock-saluted. “Density, remember,” she teased, pushing herself up.

 

“It’s cushion _shape!_ ” He called at Rey’s back.

 

Peeling away from the mountain of pillows, cushions and blankets now engulfing her living room, Rey padded into the kitchen, where Poe was watching the microwave cook popcorn. One bowl was already full, with the second one over halfway. Even knowing the drum kit upstairs was essentially over the wall between her bedroom and the main room, Rey felt like the beat was following her.

 

“Maybe we should watch Whiplash, huh?” Poe joked, jerking his chin up to the ceiling. Rey offered a half-hearted smile in reply.

 

“Poe,” she spoke slowly, carefully choosing each word, “if you don’t mind me asking; how do you know Ben Solo?”

 

Poe let out a long breath, reaching up a hand to scratch his head. “We kind of grew up together – haven’t really seen him in a while.” He loosely folded his arms, leaning back against the worktop and lightly biting his lip. "You know Leia Organa?"

 

"The nice lady you take cupcakes all the time?" Rey frowned; she didn’t see the connection.

 

Poe nodded.

 

"Ben's her son."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, that should be the last of the worst of it... for now, I can't promise anything. If I'm honest, this was not how I originally envisaged this chapter. Oh well, it's still heading in the direction I wanted so all's good.


	6. A Change in the Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, quick warning; there is a little blood in this chapter, it isn't a huge amount at all, but I wanted you to be well-warned anyways.

Now Rey _was_ avoiding Ben.

 

Since their conversation in her apartment a couple of days ago, Rey had no wish to speak to – or even bump-in to – Ben Solo. She still saw him fleetingly from time to time, of course, that was unavoidable; in the corridor or in the car park – thankfully, he seemed to have lost interest in fighting with her over the spaces. Her brief sightings of him were more like seeing a ghost in the corner of her eye than running into a person. Rey guessed that meant _he_ was avoiding _her_ , too.

 

She didn’t have a problem with that.

 

Rey pulled her jacket tight around her shoulders; shielding herself from the half-hearted, not-quite-umbrella-worthy, drizzle of rain. Luckily, the wind wasn’t in it. While during sunlight hours it was unseasonably warm, the moment the sun dipped to the level of the treetops, the air cooled significantly. Sunset had been about an hour ago, and Rey was shivering.

 

Going out to get milk (and cookies, since she was already at the store) had seemed like such a good idea earlier. Rey had gotten the bus to the store and then, thinking it wouldn’t be that cold yet, had spent her remaining bus money on gingersnap cookies. The thin plastic handles of the grocery bag cut into the quickly-numbing fingers of her left hand – the right being tucked into her side for warmth, desperately clutching her keys. _These cookies had better be good_ , Rey thought as her teeth threatened to chatter; she soon clamped them shut. The ache in her cheeks from clenching her jaw was only worsened by the cold. _Typical_.

 

The walk back had been the longest twenty minutes of her life; cold, damp, and miserable. A multitude of cars had sped past her, fractured lights shimmering through the misty rain, reminding Rey that there were people travelling the same route as she in comfort – and much faster. She even thought she saw her bus go past. Yeah, it had been a long walk. From where she stood then, however, Rey could see the towering lights of her building beckoning her home.

 

It was then, just as Rey thought she was home and, well, dry, that she heard the sound of a scuffle off to her left. The thuds and crashes of bodies knocking into walls coupled with the occasional cry of pain or shock. Hindsight would later tell her that she should have kept walking, should have ignored it and gone straight home. Curiosity got the better of her and Rey found her feet slowing to a halt as she turned to see the commotion.

 

It became quickly apparent that she was standing beside a bar; the kind with very little to testify it was even open besides the dim, lowly buzzing, neon sign and a door that gaped ominously open. The brick and mortar of the place was crumbling, the rattling drainpipe clinging on almost by threads, and every opening – from door to window – seemed to do nothing more than swallow the diminished light of the outside world. The whole building was comprised of no more than a single storey and no wider than the length of a bus – though Rey had no way to tell how far back it went. It was the sort of place that screamed “no hope.”

 

Rey took in relatively little of the bar’s features – her eyes trained on the two figures marching their way towards the door and into the glowing rays of the streetlight. The nearer they came, the more obvious it was that only one of them was marching – the other was being marched. The taller of the two, Rey estimated they had to be pushing seven feet, had a large hand clamped over the shoulder of the shorter one, tall in their own right and making the walk as difficult as possible by dragging their feet. The trudge was cut short when they finally reached the exit to their pit of despair and the march-ee was roughly shoved out onto the path right next to Rey.

 

It was only as the dark-clothed unfortunate stumbled forward – almost knocking Rey over – that she saw who it was; _Ben Solo_.

 

He looked like he’d been dragged through hell backwards. His usually perfect hair was twisted and stuck out at all angles, and where it didn’t it was plastered to his shimmering face. A cut slashed at his jaw and dribbled blood onto his shirt, his lip was swollen enough to make it look like he was pouting – all grotesquely complementing the darkening purple hue encircling his left eye. It was almost enough to make her concerned for his condition. Almost. Recognition bloomed in his black eyes when Ben saw Rey; glaring up at her from where he half-crouched, shoulders drooped and body bent-double.

 

The taller guy, who sported an impressive red beard, was still standing in the doorway and payed Rey no mind as he called out for Ben not to come back there. Ever. Rey was still rooted to the spot, watching as Ben heaved his guts into the drunkenly lolling bin next to her. He coughed and sputtered as though he was going to vomit again then gave a raspy sigh and pulled himself mostly-upright – still swaying slightly on his feet.

 

“What’re _you_ staring at?” Ben drawled, the words only coming out marginally more coherent than Rey would have imagined. She only just stopped herself from laughing out loud at the absurd question.

 

“Not much, just some idiot.” Not one of her better retorts.

 

Ben snorted an ugly laugh back at her – Rey thought he might start coughing again, or even throw up some more. The acrid odour of fresh vomit had already crept through the air from the bin that he was still leaning on heavily. Even the earthy, damp, musk rising from the sodden ground wasn’t enough to mask it. Rey wrinkled her nose and shuffled backward half a step.

 

She could have left him there, dry-heaving into the bin then spitting out the acidic taste. It occurred to Rey as a distant thought; as something someone might do, but not something she was actually considering herself. Ben Solo might be the king of all bastards, but he was also Leia’s son. For some reason, the thought of the woman Poe admired and doted on so much getting upset rendered Rey unable to leave the pathetic, drunk git to his fate.

 

_I’m not going to help_ , she decided, _but I won’t leave either_.

 

At that point, Ben took a lurching step forwards – not exactly towards Rey, but it was evident from his unbroken gaze that she was the intended direction. Far from the discomforting softness that had tinged the edges of his countenance the last time Rey had been this close to him, Ben now looked at her with complete and utter loathing. She might have been tempted to be concerned if he had the capacity to walk more like a grown man and less like a new-born giraffe.

 

“I’m surprised you can _bear_ to look at me.” Ben stood less than a foot from Rey now, and she could smell the tang of hard liquor on his breath. “Given that I’m ovibi… ovbi… obviously so… _repulsive_ to you.” He threw his arms out dramatically like wings, hands pointed inward to indicate himself.

 

Rey rolled her eyes; making a strong effort not to laugh at his alcohol-induced speech issue. “I never said that,” she said patiently.

 

Ben scoffed again. “You made your feelings clear,” he sneered before swivelling away and lumbering towards their building.

 

Having resolved to make sure nothing truly terrible happened to him, Rey followed. She probably wouldn’t stop someone from punching Ben in the jaw though. Just once. She hadn’t forgiven him yet, after all, and the memory of the things he had said still pinged around in her head. That said; as they wandered back, Rey found that she wasn’t as nauseated being around Ben as she had thought she might be. Ben’s unwarranted declaration losing its edge in the face of his disillusionment with the nature of their relationship – maybe it was even steadily becoming water under the bridge.

 

The rain continued to drizzle over the pair of them; Rey walking forward in a straight line, Ben, like an errant satellite, wandering around her general vicinity. Most of the time, he was half a step behind her and near the edge of the pavement, nearly falling into the road. Rey glanced back only when she couldn’t hear his stomping feet shadowing her.

 

“Why did you get in a fight, anyway?” Rey called to him over the sound of the speeding traffic. She resisted the impish urge to suggest it was his personality.

 

“What do you care?”

 

If Rey didn’t know better, she would swear he actually sounded wounded at the thought that she didn’t care. _Must be the drink talking_.

 

“Must you be so petulant _all_ the time?” She muttered, not really intending for him to hear. Unbeknownst to Rey, Ben had caught up with her.

 

“I’m not being… that.” Rey almost jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice mere inches from her ear. “I’m just calling you on your bullshit – you don’t care about me, so why pretend?”

 

Rey was seconds away from storming off and leaving him there – she really was. That or actually pushing Ben into the oncoming traffic, she hadn’t decided.

 

“You’re just like everyone else; you don’t give two shits abou-”

 

The resulting punch didn’t make as much noise as Rey had hoped for, not like in the films, though the feeling of her fist connecting with his cheek certainly made her feel better. Ben stumbled backward sloppily clutching his face, and slipped; falling squarely on his arse. It was only when she heard the metallic clinking as she pulled her hand back that Rey remembered she had her keys in the hand that had just punched Ben in the face.

 

A flicker of horror ran through her, chased by the feeling that this was inevitable – and an angry notion that he deserved it. They had been brewing for a fight since day one; better to get it out now. Rey only hoped this wouldn’t make it all worse.

 

Rey stared, transfixed, as Ben pulled his blood-spotted hand away from his face. Her mouth dropped open before she thought to stop it; an uneven, curved cut sliced downward across one side of his nose and over his left cheek. It was angry and leaking thin trails of bright red blood down to his chin, carried on droplets of rain.

 

Ben pushed himself up to lean on his elbows – copious amounts of alcohol in his system making it tough to sit up altogether – and looked intently at Rey. The expression he held on his face shocked her; where Rey had been expecting a dark, billowing rage, there was a kind of awe. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

 

Fortunately for Rey, her fury hadn’t died yet. She could rely on it for the time being. “Who the hell made you the king of everything, huh? What makes you think you know _anything_ about me or what I do or do not give ‘two shits’ about?” She loomed over him, her foot just one kick away from Ben’s shins. “Don’t think you’re some kind of victim just because I said _no_ to you – you’re just a self-important _brat!_ ”

 

Rey only realised how loud she had been talking when the light but constant drumming of the rain was all that filled the otherwise silent air between them. She looked down at Ben, who had now narrowed his eyes, and knew with certainty that she had meant every word she had just yelled at him. Evidently no one else had had the guts to tell him the truth his whole life. Rey began wondering what kind of person Leia really was to have allowed her son to become… _this_.

 

The uncertain moment that followed Rey’s outburst stretched into a minute before she finally decided that she couldn’t take it anymore. Rey turned and stomped away in the direction of their building. If Ben wanted to get home safely then that was his lookout – the door was visible from where he now lay anyhow.

 

“It was some asshole,” Ben shouted at Rey’s receding back; she almost missed it.

 

“ _What?_ ” She turned, frowning at the lanky man clumsily getting to his feet.

 

“The reason I, uh, got in the fight… it was some asshole mucking about with the jukebox.” He started to meander towards her.

 

“A jukebox, really?” Rey raised an eyebrow.

 

Her pride – or maybe her better judgement – told her that she should be walking away now, not waiting for Ben to catch up. Rey had had the last word, won the fight, sticking around and listening to Ben seemed to undermine of all that. Besides, it was strange that he was more inclined to be reasonable _after_ she punched him in the face. _And cut him on my apartment keys_ … A particularly thick drop of rain running down her nose reiterated the point that she really should be getting back to her nice, warm flat. Rey just swiped it away.

 

“Yeah,” Ben was almost next to her now, Rey tried not to let her eyes be constantly drawn back to the glaring cut on his face. If it hurt at all, he wasn’t showing it. “He kept putting the same fucking song on.”

 

“That’s worth getting in a fight?” Rey started to walk as Ben passed her; struggling to fall into step with his strident, unbalanced steps.

 

“You try listening to _What’s New Pussycat_ twelve times in a row.”

 

For Rey, that was the last straw for this bizarrely eventful evening. The laugh that ripped from her lungs sounded like an awkward cross between a cackle and hiccups. Eyes squeezed shut and stomach aching, Rey bent forward as she tried to breathe and laugh at the same time.

 

“It’s not funny.” Ben said in a slurred approximation of a matter-of-fact tone.

 

That only made matters worse; Rey tried, but she couldn’t reply. Her lungs were refusing to expand to admit the air she needed during a fit of laughter. Eventually, she was able to suck in great gulps of rain-soaked air, but not before the hiccups claimed her. _Oh no_ , she thought, as the first high-pitched squeak escaped her lips.

 

Ben gaped, wide-eyed at her; a teasing if generally lop-sided grin pulling up his mouth. Rey pointed a finger sternly at him in a silent effort to get him to stop – an endeavour that failed the second she hiccupped again.

 

Now it was Ben who laughed. Rey scowled menacingly at him, though she could hardly blame him; even Finn had chuckled the first time he heard her hiccup. She only hoped the alcohol in his system meant that Ben wouldn’t remember this in the morning.

 

Standing there watching Ben made Rey realise she had never heard the sound of his laughter. Not altogether surprising given their antagonistic relationship, but still contrasted sharply with how quick her friends were to laugh in comparison. It wasn’t an infectious giggle like Finn’s or Jess’, neither was it a bright and heartfelt chortle like Poe’s. It had a rich sound that warmed her and nearly had Rey forgetting they were standing out in the freezing rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this was inspired by John Mulaney's "Salt and Pepper Diner" bit - just the thought of Ben putting up with that was too funny for me so... here.
> 
> Now the real questions: Will Ben remember what happened? Can Rey forgive him? Are we finally on the road to a happily-ever-after? Pfft! I guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?!?!?


	7. Salvaging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am warning you right now: this is a long one and I am not going to do many chapters of this length. That said, enjoy :) Oh, and I'm sorry to any mechanically-knowledged people out there for the artistic license taken with regards to Rey's job and engine parts.

 

Rey wiped the grit-peppered sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand in a hurried motion before returning her grip to the metal panel. It might have been cold out, but the young woman was sweating profusely. The straight edges of the panel hadn’t bitten through her oversized, oil-coated gloves – very little could – but their sharpness still made itself apparent to Rey. With a cry of frustration, she gave it all she had to pull the panel from the discarded gate. It didn’t budge.

 

Rey roared and kicked at the uncooperative pile of junk – the panel in question now bent slightly away from the frame of the thing. Barely enough for Rey’s fingertips, and certainly not enough to get her hand into the hollow space between the external and internal panel to unscrew the bolts. She stood back from it, with her hands on her hips, appraising the apparent futility of her situation.

 

What someone could have needed with a gate that large _in the first place_ was a mystery to Rey, let alone now, when it was being little more than a nuisance. The young woman glanced over the yard to where one of Plutt’s lackeys was working on something – the unmistakable, hiccupping whirr of the machine that could do the job Rey was now attempting in a matter of minutes rattled tantalisingly across to her. Of course, Rey wasn’t allowed to use it if someone else was using it first. Even if what she needed it for would take less than an hour and what anyone else needed it for would take all day.

 

“Come on, Rey,” she muttered to herself, “you can do this.”

 

As tough as it was, Rey had never been one to give up on something that could be salvaged – and these panels were still usable. Hooking all her fingers under the panel – which gave a sharp squeak of alarm that she was going to be rough with it again – Rey lifted it enough to get the tips of her shoes onto the frame. She was now crouching, constantly experiencing the feeling of being about to fall back on her arse but the weight of the gate holding her in place. From this position, in theory, all she had to do was stand up and the metal would have to give.

 

On the count of three, Rey began to straighten her legs. The ache and strain that jolted up and down her limbs was sensational; every part of her screaming to stop this overworking of her body. Nonetheless, Rey carried on; a long, slow groan building in her throat until she yelled out as the panel finally bent up enough to get her chunky screwdriver in and unfasten the panel. She bent down to get a look at what she would be working with; one hand still holding up the panel while the other scrapped around for the required tool.

 

Rey thought she might actually cry when she saw how rusted the bolt was into its hole. Evidently, the bolts hadn’t been treated with the same stuff as the external panels, some water had slipped through the cracks and hey, presto, the bolt wouldn’t budge.

 

Rey flopped back on the cracked tarmac beneath her – irritably aware of the continuous whirring of her unreachable salvation halfway across Plutt’s yard. The bent panel wobbled slightly now that she had let it go. Rey puffed out a sigh; blowing dust and the odd frayed cobweb off her metallic enemy.

 

It was as she was narrowing her eyes at the gate that Rey heard the metallic, tumbling clatter of a junk-pile land-slide coming from somewhere off to her right – near the back fence of the yard. A quick glance in the direction of the noise wasn’t enough to tell her what had happened.  Rey pushed off from the ground with a groan. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in this sector but her, and if anything blew up it would be Rey who got chewed out.

 

Meandering around piles of scrap taller than she was, Rey quickly found her way to the source of the noise. She blinked a couple of times to make sure she’d seen it right, then scoffed as she watched Ben _fucking_ Solo pick over the scrap like a vulture. _No, not a vulture, vultures at least look like they know what they’re doing_.

 

He was picking up bits of anything and everything – wires, rods, miscellaneous scrap – and inspecting each one with the same air of faux-mastery. It might have been convincing if Rey couldn’t tell so quickly that he evidently had no idea what he was doing. After wrinkling his nose, each object would then be unceremoniously flicked back onto the pile – that being what made the clatter that brought Rey over. The sound had probably been masked by the groaning and screeching of her own project; she pondered then how long he had actually been there.

 

They hadn’t spoken since Rey warily walked Ben back to their apartment building. There wasn’t really much for them to talk about, except Rey punching him, and she wasn’t certain she actually wanted to have a conversation about that. The way Rey saw it she had done her part – more than that, really – in getting him back to the building in one piece. That was three days ago. She couldn’t even remember running into him in that time. Rey still wasn’t even a hundred percent sure of how she felt about seeing him anyway. On the one hand, he had taken a weird and somewhat disconcerting liking to her and had expressed it in completely the wrong way. On the other, there was something about him that called out to Rey that this was all new to him and no, Ben didn’t know what he was doing or, really, how to behave around someone he _liked_. Rey was on the fence about whether to ignore him completely or go back to their occasional arguments. True, there was less hassle in her day-to-day life without acknowledging Ben, but it was also, in a way, lonelier.

 

Now here he was, tatty dark grey jeans and black hoodie, with a muddy-grey canvas bag slung over his shoulders, rummaging around Plutt’s junkyard. Rey folded her arms and cocked her hip to one side. When Ben evidently wasn’t noticing her, she noisily cleared her throat – making Ben jump right out of his skin. Rey did her best not to laugh at his shock, though it was hard; her lips going through turns of being drawn thin, pursed, and pulled behind her teeth altogether. Though his bruise was fading to a yellowish-green, she could still see the ribbon-like red mark her keys had made etched on Ben’s face – Rey did wonder if it still stung.

 

“This isn’t a jumble sale, you know,” she said evenly.

 

“What are _you_ doing here?” The surprise slowly crumbled from his face in favour of an irritated frown.

 

Rey kept her face stoic as she dryly answered him. “I work here.” She was sure she’d told him that before.

 

“Oh,” his reply was soft; Ben seemed to have deflated a little, his shoulders visibly sagging.

 

That almost did for Rey’s efforts not to laugh. Ben’s expression wasn’t gormless by a long shot but it was well-past confused. Rey settled on a description of ‘lost’ in her head – and the image of someone as tall and imposing as Ben looking lost was almost more than she could handle. She settled for glancing away for a moment to compose herself, a quirk of a smile toying with the corner of her mouth as she bit down hard on her lower lip.

 

When Rey looked back, Ben had returned to sifting through the piles of scrap, albeit more awkwardly this time. It was tempting to walk away; Plutt wouldn’t notice if anything from back there went missing, and if he did what did Rey care? She didn’t exactly _like_ the guy. There was a sticking point, however, if Plutt _did_ find out, then Rey would be the one in trouble, and since it was _her_ not one of his lackeys then you could be sure that Plutt would come up with something truly horrible as punishment.

 

“You can’t just pick up and steal whatever you want.” The sound of Finn’s voice in the back of her head reminded Rey that that was exactly what she did pretty much every day.

 

“Who’s gonna stop me, you?” Ben didn’t look up fully, but Rey saw the flash of his bottomless eyes flick to her for a beat, then he was back to scavenging. A loud crash resounded around them as he chucked a rusted piece of engine casing.

 

Rey marched over to him, expertly dodging the path of booby-traps Ben had littered about for her to trip over. Before he had realised what she was doing, Rey grabbed a hold of his hood and yanked backwards sharply – pulling Ben back with it. It was only down to Rey’s light-footedness that he didn’t tumble right back onto her.

 

“Ahh! What the hell was that for?” When Ben whipped his head around his blazing, dark eyes bore into Rey. He would have to do better than _that_ to frighten her.

 

Although, Rey was more than aware of how close their faces now were. She could smell a hint of smoke and earthy-scented aftershave. _Warm_ was the word that sprang to mind. The cut on his face – her cut on his face – wasn’t deep and had blistered over. The skin still looked pinkish and a bit tender. Rey actually felt a little guilty about it, even though she knew he had had it coming. She made herself ignore it.

 

“If you get caught here then we’ll _both_ be in the shit.” Her voice held an underlying note of threat in it. Well, maybe not so underlying.

 

“I won’t get caught.”

 

“Yeah, because you’re being _so_ stealthy.” Rey saw Ben roll his eyes, though there was also a moment when she could see plainly he knew she was right. “Look Solo, I can’t just leave you here to rummage about; it would be my job on the line, alright?”

 

Rey hoped he wasn’t that much of an arsehole – the kind that would do something just because it would get her fired. A part of her, probably an idea she got from Poe, told her he wasn’t.

 

“Surely your boss wants to get rid of all this junk.” He threw out a long arm to indicate the piles of scrap around them.

 

Rey shrugged expressively. “What can I say, Plutt’s a hardass.”

 

“So what are _you_ suggesting?” He had evidently picked up on the fact that Rey hadn’t told him to scram. A twinkle of mischief, much like a flickering star, emerged from the depths of his midnight-black eyes.

 

“What are you looking for?” Rey honestly couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth. Helping Ben seemed like a stupid idea – but she knew he wouldn’t leave, and screwing over Plutt without getting caught, while risky, was satisfying. Actually getting caught would be worse.

 

“You gonna help me, Princess?” Ben crooned back at her, expression softening for half a second. “Well thanks, but no thanks, I don’t need you.”

 

He pulled away from her and made to walk over to one of the other piles of scrap lying about. Rey huffed. The whirring machine sound that provided the backdrop to her every thought reminded her that her choice was either convince Ben to be quiet and let her help – therefore getting rid of him faster – or go back to plying sheet metal from a rusted gate.

 

Rey would have to think of something quick, because Ben was already making too much noise. Plutt’s goons could be alerted at any moment. Then the idea hit her.

 

A smirk tugged at her lips as she called out to him. “Bet I can find it faster than you.”

 

The look on Ben’s face when he turned back to Rey was an open book: _oh really?_

 

* * *

 

 

Rey cursed for the uncountable time as her hand slipped again into the side of what used to be part of the dynamo shaft. Since the motorcycle she was now pulling apart had been brought in, however, the dynamo – and a good few other parts – had been stripped. Which meant that Rey was contending with the sharp-sawn edge of the metal post to which the dynamo had once been attached. What Rey was after was the gears. There were a couple of them there, but they were proving difficult to extricate even though Rey had taken off her oil-slicked gloves for better grip.

 

Turned out what Ben wanted was relatively simple; a few gears, couple of coils, and as many pistons as they could find. Rey had no idea what he meant to do with them and had given him a look of utter disbelief when he had told her. Ben hadn’t realised that sort of stuff wouldn’t be just lying about and they would have to strip engines for it. That meant leaving the safety of the back area.

 

Acknowledging this, Rey had insisted on certain rules for their bet; no going _anywhere_ with sightlines to the main office, avoid other scrapyard employees at all costs, stay in sight of each other, and above all – no noise. Both of them had broken the last one several times at this point, but it _was_ the least important.

 

The bet itself was the main thing. Apparently, Ben was just as susceptible to a challenge as Rey, and being bet that she could do something faster than him piqued his interest enough to get him to agree. It was simple enough, an old classic, really; whoever lost had to buy the other one a drink – no price or alcohol limit specified. Rey really did need to win, not being that well-paid and all. At this point, however, she was focused on one goal; getting rid of Ben.

 

He was just over her right shoulder – Rey kept checking to make sure he hadn’t wandered off – fiddling with the engine of an old Ford. She had already gone through the basics with him; what was where and so forth, how to take the engine apart, but Ben hadn’t really seemed to listen to her. _I’ll just win that much more easily then, won’t I?_

 

She reached down for the uncooperative gear again and twisted – evidently at just the right angle, because it came off in her hand. Rey pocketed it in the little pouch strapped to her hip. Officially, it contained her portable toolkit. She used it to transport smaller parts of scrap back to her rucksack. For now, it would suffice to carry her pickings to end the bet. Thus far, that amounted to four gears, one coil, and the impressive prize of one whole piston, slightly dented. The latter had to swing from one of the hooks on her belt, but Rey covered it as best she could with the tattered jacket she had tied around her waist.

 

Just as she was heading on to the next vehicle – half a Pontiac – Rey’s phone buzzed. Sliding a glance over to make sure Ben wasn’t watching her, she pulled it out of her pocket. It was Poe. Rey had texted him about half an hour ago to ask for advice when dealing with Ben. She glanced at the clock on her display; 1:17, just after the lunchtime rush, _that would have kept him busy_. Pushing that thought aside, Rey touched her thumb to the message itself.

 

_[You can handle this – you can handle anything. If worst comes to worst, then report him to Plutt. xoxo]_

 

Rey’s eyes shot up to the sky before she tapped her own message back.

 

_[Can’t – Plutt hates me xx]_

 

She didn’t even have time to stuff the phone back in her pocket before it buzzed again. One day Rey would _have_ to learn how he did that.

 

_[Well I can always call Ben’s Mom xoxo]_

The ugly snort came out before Rey had a chance to stop it. A sharp turn towards her adversary told her that he either didn’t notice or didn’t care – probably the latter given how much noise they were making anyway. It was a miracle no one had noticed what they were doing yet.

 

_[Don’t pull mum-card yet, nearly rid of him xx]_

 

This time Rey managed to return her phone to her pocket and push open the car bonnet without Poe’s lightning-texting getting the better of her.

 

When she saw the engine before her, Rey’s eyes widened to the size of dishes. It was almost completely intact; full set of pistons, a pair of unwarped coils and one large gear. She had, in essence, just won the bet – but not until she removed the parts from the engine.

 

It wasn’t until Rey’s arms were covered up to her shoulders in oil streaks that she had everything. Ben was still on the other side of their secluded clearing of scrap, utterly oblivious to what was going on behind him. Well, Rey was in no hurry to enlighten him just yet – she still had the other coil to get out.

 

The thought occurred to her once more why on earth he needed all this stuff. Despite Rey casting aspersions at his harlequin motorcycle, there was nothing wrong with the workings of it as far as she could see. Alternatively, she considered the possibility that he could be constructing something, but what? What could he be making with gears, coils, and pistons that didn’t require a sparkplug or an alternator? Then again maybe he already had-

 

“Hey, you found it all.” Ben’s voice ploughed through the mass of thoughts encircling Rey. He sounded more impressed in her find than disappointed he had lost the bet – a point that Rey found curious.

 

She turned to him, only just stopping herself from wiping a large smear of black oil across her forehead. The errant piece of hair dangling in front of her right eye would just have to stay there.

 

“This all you need?” Rey pulled out the remaining parts from her side pouch and tossed them on the floor with the stuff she had pulled out of the busted Pontiac. The solitary piston was the last to get unhooked, Rey used it to gesture at the pile at her feet.

 

“Yeah, that’s great.” Ben hadn’t yet taken his eyes off the apparatus on the floor. When he did, and looked straight at Rey and raised an eyebrow at her as he moved to gather up the parts. “So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a junkyard like this anyway?”

 

Rey rolled her eyes. She’d heard that line a million times since working at the scrapyard and it really shouldn’t have surprised her that Sir Idiotfeatures would use it the first opportunity he got. Yet as she watched him get down on hands and knees and start shoving her haul into his weathered bag, Rey found that she was. Just a little.

 

“I’m not telling you anything until there is coffee in my hand.” Her hands immediately went to her hips, fists balled and pressed into her side. She had no intention of opening up to the guy, but right now she would say almost anything to get her hands on her well-earned prize.

 

“Coffee?” Ben looked quizzically up at Rey from where he knelt at her feet. His outstretched hand hovered in the empty space between one of the coils and her ankle.

 

“Mm-hmm. Coffee. Black; caramel with a shot of nutmeg. From the caf across the way – the one with the striped awning.”

 

For a moment, Ben didn’t move. The pair of them were frozen there; Rey looking down at him kneeling on the floor, eyes ever drawn to the blistered mark on his face; Ben staring up at her through his long, dark, eyelashes. The only sound was a whirring, stuttery machine that was too far away for Rey to care much about it.

 

Ben smiled coldly – the expression twisted the lower corner of his cut oddly – and pushed himself up from the ground, swiping bits of tarmac and dust off his trousers with the flat of his hand. When he was standing straight, he gave Rey a quick nod.

 

“Coffee, got it.” He winked and turned to leave. Before he was even two paces away, Ben swivelled on his feet and asked teasingly, “you sure you don’t want a real drink?”

 

“Tell you what, you do the back-breaking, long hours at this place, and _then_ you can tell me that coffee isn’t a real drink.” Rey snatched up the cloth from her belt and began wiping down her arms. It wouldn’t get her clean by a long shot, but at least the worst of it would be gone.

 

Ben chuckled and shrugged. “Just wanted to be sure.” Having said his piece, he seemed content to leave. For once, Rey couldn’t wait for him to come back – that coffee was one of her favourites.

 

She haphazardly threw the rest of the parts in his bag and cinched the top shut with the thick woven drawstring. Heaving the weighty, clanking bag onto her back, Rey reluctantly decided that she could return to the impossible gate. That meant trudging back to the less open part of the scrapyard. She figured that Ben might be an idiot but he was smart enough to work out where she had gone.

 

It was lying exactly where she had left it; one panel still bent with a three-or-four-inch gap on one side. Rey slung the bag down beside it and rummaged around in the transportable toolkit buckled to her side for some wire wool – the really robust kind. It wouldn’t be as good as actual rust remover but they had run out of that yesterday and Plutt had yet to send someone for more.

 

Rey sucked a breath sharply through her teeth when her unprotected fingers came into contact with the razor-sharp wire. With her free hand, Rey tugged her gloves loose of the knotted sleeves of the jacket around her waist. She was able to pull one on with her teeth and transfer the wire wool from hand to glove. It wasn’t long before both hands were suitably covered.

 

All that was left was for her to scoot down and reach the rusted bolt and scrub it with the wire. Her hope was that she would dislodge just enough of it to be able to twist the bolt out of its hole. Rey wasn’t going to hold her breath for that one though.

 

The metal panel bit into Rey’s shoulder; a sharp, digging, slice of pain radiated out along her arm. Still, she gritted her teeth and began to scrape the knotted mass of metal in her fist over and around the bolt. It would be the understatement of the year to say it was-

 

“Slow going?”

 

Rey practically growled as she twisted around to see Ben standing over her, steaming coffee cup in hand. He flinched back a half-step when he saw her face. From which, she guessed her expression was probably far more antagonistic than strictly necessary. Rey made a concentrated effort to relax her facial muscles a bit.

 

Pulling back from the gate, Rey stood up and shoved the wire wool pack in her kit with one hand. With the other, she reached for the cup. Ben gave the thick glove she wore an uncertain look. _It’s not as if I’m threatening him with the wire wool_. The young woman sighed exasperatedly.

 

“Give me the coffee and no one gets hurt.”

 

Apparently Ben didn’t need telling twice; Rey was wrapping her hands around the warmth of the coffee cup in no time. The gloves were the perfect thickness for letting the heat through to her skin without burning off her fingertips. Rey hummed pleasantly, holding the steaming cup as close to her face as possible.

 

The smell of these drinks was one of the best in the world; strong, dark, with a hint of nutmeg singing over it all. Rey felt transported miles from her antagonising job and exasperating neighbour with one deep inhale. _Perfect_.

 

The first sip was tentative – wary of scalding her tongue. Rey found out quickly that it had cooled to the ideal temperature, probably something to do with the weather, and she was able to take a few gulps. Where the scent was exquisite, the taste was divine. Molten heaven, Rey had once described it to Finn; at first rich and nutty from the flavour of the roast mingling together with the spice of nutmeg, then a smooth, sweet aftertaste of caramel. With enough money, Rey would drink them all day – even putting up with Ben Solo for half an hour was worth it for one of those coffees.

 

When Rey opened her eyes again – having shut them completely on instinct as the taste hit her mouth – she saw that Ben was frowning at her.

 

“What?” She asked sharply.

 

“Nothing,” Ben shook his head, glancing sideways at the gate, probably to avoid looking at Rey.

 

Rey had another swig of the coffee, letting out a satisfied sigh as the syrupy warmth ran down her throat. Ben shuffled on his feet and she watched him over the rim of her coffee cup. There was something unspoken between them, it was a little awkward and Rey knew immediately what it was though she wished it would just go away. She also knew it had to be her who made the first move – just this once.

 

“Does it still hurt?” Rey looked squarely at Ben, hoping he would understand what she meant. She felt that pointing would be a bit, well, pointed.

 

He gave a single, solemn nod; his face more emotionless than Rey had ever seen it. “Only when something touches it.” Ben flicked his fingers up to the cut, stopping short of actually touching the skin there.

 

Rey bit her lip. Deserving or not, she didn’t feel that the infliction of that mark was one of her finer moments. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Her voice hung in the cool air.

 

Ben waved his hand noncommittally. “I’ve had worse. Don’t worry about it.”

 

It wasn’t quite forgiveness, but then again, Rey hadn’t exactly forgiven him for _his_ misconducts either. At least she had apologised. Ben probably wasn’t used to apologising.

 

Before Rey could say anymore, Ben shouldered his bag in a cacophony of rattles and clanks and stomped towards the back fence. No goodbye, no nothing. Rey just watched him go, sipping her coffee – her thoughts wandering between the salvaging job she still had to complete and Ben Solo.

 

* * *

 

 

When she was driving back home that evening, Rey could feel every point on her body that would develop into an ache in the morning – mostly in her right shoulder. She had eventually managed to get enough of the bulbous red rust off the bolt to pry the damn thing out and lift the bent panel. Plutt had a tool to flatten it again, Rey didn’t have one that would get rid of the cramp in her hand.

 

She had been so spent at her punching-out time, even, that she had forgotten she was still wearing her thick gloves. They now sat on the passenger seat next to her laden backpack. Hunting for parts on Ben’s behalf had turned out a few good pieces for Rey’s own project.

 

The young woman flexed her aching hands on the steering wheel of her car – her fingers making a sticky, peeling sound as they came away from the faux-leather material. Too much oil and sweat, Rey decided. She would need one hell of a shower when her apartment door was firmly locked behind her.

 

The evening was starting to darken quickly – the days had been shortening for weeks now. Wisps of navy blue clouds swathed the blackening sky in careless shots of cool colour behind the canopy of blushing autumnal trees. Rey loved it. Frosty mornings, warm jumpers, hot chocolate, and dark evenings – fantastic.

 

Rey pulled neatly into her parking space – Ben’s motorcycle in its correct place opposite her car. A sharp flick of her wrist with the keys pinched between her thumb and finger killed the engine. The thought occurred to Rey, as she rested her head back against the threadbare seat, that it wouldn’t take much more than that to kill her car’s miserable engine completely. The thing was on its last legs, no two ways about it. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a small rest before she would have to muster the remnants of her energy to amble up to her flat.

 

At least the lift was fixed now – and who knew how long _that_ luxury would last?

 

With a big sigh that pulled her shoulders down with it, Rey pushed open the door of her car. She slid out, tugging the hefty bag behind her. This would be the last of her manoeuvrability, Rey was sure of it; the moment she got into her flat everything would go stiff and she would feel like a wooden zombie.

 

The noise wasn’t apparent to Rey until the car door was shut and her bag of scrap had stopped clattering. Then it was all-too obvious; shouting voices, _angry_ shouting voices. Someone was in a fight. Rey looked around and found the source. No, not someone, _Ben_ – and he was having his ass handed to him.

 

Rey threw her bag under her car and ran over to where Ben was getting beat up by three guys – Rey had difficulty telling them apart they looked so eerily similar. As she got nearer, Rey saw that there was an impressively-muscled woman, too; sitting on the bonnet of a nearby car and watching the proceedings. Crop the picture, and the woman could have been out enjoying a casual evening.

 

“You need to learn, you no-good _scum_ ,” crowed the woman in a lull of violence, “ _nobody_ bloodys-up my boy and gets away with it, you _hear_ _me?_ ”

 

With that, she nodded to one of the guys. He promptly landed a punch squarely in Ben’s gut; dropping him onto his hands and knees. Horror coiled itself around Rey’s stomach, clawing its way up her throat until she thought she could taste bile.

 

“No,” Ben spat blood onto the ground between his hands, “but I can smell you.”

 

One of the other lackeys – a stocky man with greasy, mouse-brown hair, standing only a fraction taller than Rey – grabbed Ben by his mussed hair and yanked him backwards. Ben cried out in a sharp, involuntary yelp.

 

“The _fuck_ did you just say, you little bitch?” He made to raise his hand to slap Ben right across his bleeding face.

 

The taste of fear dissolved on her tongue and Rey felt herself gripped by an unspeakable fury. Ben Solo might not have been her favourite person right then, but this was _wrong_. Rey wouldn’t stand for it. The moment she _did_ do something, however, Rey wished she had had a little more tact about the matter.

 

“HEY!” She shrieked, causing the mouse-man’s hand to freeze mid-air.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” The woman thudded off the car and took a step towards Rey. Her three followers turned to look in the same direction. The encroaching shadows only served to make the group look more menacing; the last light source a half-dead street lamp buzzing pathetically overhead. Rey suddenly felt incredibly stupid and very, _very_ outnumbered.

 

“You his little piece of ass, girlie?” This came from a different lackey; the one with the mole on his nose.

 

“You listen to _me_ here, girl.” The woman, a swarthy redhead, was now less than a metre from Rey. “Your boyfriend got ‘imself into a little bit of trouble. Now we aren’t here to kill ‘im, just knock some sense into ‘im. You know what’s good for you? Then you’ll fuck right off and get the ice-pack ready.”

 

Rey’s mind was screaming and begging her to run, just leave him there, the redhead said they weren’t going to kill him. _What’s the sense you getting hurt to save_ his _idiot arse?_ Her gaze darted between the woman and her men – the odds were definitely stacked against her.

 

Then her eyes fell on Ben’s face. His head was still twisted up to face the sky owing to the mouse-man’s fist knotted in his dark hair. Fresh bruises blossomed blue over his pale skin. One of the punches had evidently split the cut on his face open again as Rey could see slivers of blood dripping down towards his chin.

 

Rey’s mind was made up when Ben’s dark eyes slid over to her at last; a painful flare of hope shone, stuttered, and died.

 

The young woman glared back at the redhead. “No, he isn’t my boyfriend. But I’m not going to leave either.”

 

“What? You think you’re some kind of hero, girlie?” Cackled mole-face.

 

“Nope.” Rey flashed a wicked grin. “Nothing so noble.”

 

Without leaving her opponents too much time to think, Rey grabbed the shirt of the redheaded woman and yanked her forwards so that she stumbled and nearly tripped behind Rey. Thus giving Rey the opportunity she needed to get to Ben and, more importantly, the mouse-man holding him captive.

 

Small, sharp nails – jagged from being ripped off on machinery – dug into the soft flesh of his inner elbow. Ben took opportunity to grab him by the legs and try to trip him up. Mouse-man growled and made to swat Rey away with his free hand. Rey leapt neatly backward – right into the waiting arms of the third lackey.

 

He chortled and whooped that he had her and they could take her down, same as Ben. He made an even louder sound when Rey cracked her fist against his nose. As soon as she was free, Rey chanced a glance back to see him cowering away into the shadows, cradling his nose. _One down_.

 

“Bala-Tik, get the girl!” The woman screeched out.

 

While mouse-man – apparently this was Bala-Tik – had inadvertently loosened his grip enough that Ben was able to get free, coughing heartily; Rey was not so lucky. Bala-Tik and mole-face were closing in on her from both sides and she was backed against a car.

 

The two men launched themselves at her nigh-on simultaneously – Rey had a matter of seconds to decide her course of action. She reached out to her left to grab Bala-Tik’s first and second fingers whilst pushing herself away from the car as much as possible. The effect wasn’t quite as dramatic as she would have liked, but Rey was able to use her attacker’s arm as a lever and fulcrum to swing away from the trap and bend his fingers painfully back at the same time.

 

Unfortunately, that did nothing to stop mole-face from grabbing Rey’s jacket and pulling her back towards him. His attack, however, did give her the opportunity to throw her weight backwards and topple him onto the tarmac.

 

Rey jumped up and noted from the corner of her eye that he was trying to get up again. She made to move towards him but Ben got there first, moving through the half-light as though he was born to the darkness. One of his heavy boots swung cleanly between mole-face’s legs. The man howled in pain. _Two down_.

 

“Why you little-” The redhead had re-joined the scramble and took a shot at Ben’s head with her meaty fist. Rey saw it coming. Ben didn’t.

 

“ _SOLO_ _!_ ” Rey yelled, leaping to push him out of the way.

 

She only got near enough for her fingertips to press against the soft material of his hoodie where it covered his chest before she was subjected to the sickening sensation of being grabbed around the waist and lifted backwards into the air. Bala-Tik’s arm held her firmly in place.

 

The redhead’s hit landed true and Ben plummeted to the floor. Grit crunched under his weight where he fell. He lay worryingly still on the floor and Rey felt the bile return to her mouth. This time it wasn’t just because of what was happening to Ben; she was genuinely concerned for her own safety. _Just_ had _to do the right thing, didn’t you Rey? Couldn’t have just left the arsehole to his fate, noooo._

 

“This little business didn’t concern you.” The redhead made her way towards Rey, her face the very antithesis of friendly. “Could’ve walked away an’ been rosy but _now_ you’ve gone an’ done it ‘aven’t you?”

 

“Look, he’s a bastard, I’m not going to lie to you.” Rey really hoped she didn’t sound like she was begging. “But whatever he’s done, he doesn’t deserve this – this is cruel.”

 

There was a gut-churning beat in which the redhead weighed up Rey’s words. Then an unsettling mock-gentleness took over her countenance. “Oh, well, bugger me if you ‘aven’t gone an’ changed my mind about this whole damn business.” She put a muscle-knotted hand over her heart dramatically, crooked teeth showing behind a crooked smile. “Maybe we should dissolve the ‘ole gang while we’re at it, huh, Bala-Tik?”

 

Rey could feel the man holding her scoffing at the very suggestion; spittle flying from his mouth and past Rey’s face as he did so.

 

“I wouldn’t want to put you out.” Rey curled into a ball around Bala-Tik’s arm and kicked out at the redhead – _hard_.

 

The redhead went flying backwards with an ungracious _oof!_ Given the sudden unbalance of forces, even Bala-Tik couldn’t stay standing; both he and Rey stumbled to the ground. Rey got up faster.

 

She scrambled through her thoughts for an idea of what to do when she saw Ben’s helmet, discarded on the ground. Rey scooped it up in the same fluid motion she had seen Ben used half a dozen times. Without hesitation, she brought the helmet smoothly up and, as she saw Bala-Tik scrambling to his feet, whacked it straight into the thug’s shocked face.

 

The sound of metal and plastic connecting to flesh and bone was sickening – but also, to a darker part of Rey, a bit satisfying. As the helmet met the man’s face, Rey felt the shockwave of resistance _thrum_ up her arm. It didn’t hurt too much now, but she was certain it would only add to her aches in the morning. That, however, would be nothing in comparison to the headache her opponent would have when he woke up.

 

Bala-Tik keeled over backwards, knocked out cold, into the prostrate form of mole-face. The redhead pushed herself up, gasping for air. Rey immediately rounded on her.

 

“You want what he’s having?” Rey nodded down at Bala-Tik, channelling as much ferocity into her hazel eyes as humanly possible.

 

“ _He_ ,” the redhead stuck a perfectly-manicured nail at Ben, “beat up one of my boys the other night, that kind of shit can’t just _slide_ … we are the _Guavians_ , you understand?”

 

“What’s that, a kind of fruit?” The voice in her head – the common sense one that she had been ignoring for a good ten minutes at this point – roared at Rey to stop talking. Pissing off this redhead any more than absolutely, unavoidably necessary was a terrible idea. “Look, he gets the message, alright? You’ve made your damn point.”

 

The redhead narrowed her eyes at Rey. Rey just made sure the helmet was ready for another swing, though her arm was beginning to protest the treatment.

 

“Maybe I didn’t speak slowly enough;” Rey prayed to anyone who was listening that her voice didn’t shake much, though she could feel her heart thudding in her throat. “You clear out and you don’t come back.” She spoke as though she was talking to a child. “Got it?”

 

The redhead’s eyes flickered between Rey and the helmet a couple of times before she nodded. Rey watched as the woman got mole-face and the other one to drag Bala-Tik away. Only when she was sure all four were gone did she drop the helmet and rush over to where Ben lay.

 

In the dark, as it was rapidly becoming now, Rey couldn’t easily see if he was even breathing. She really, really didn’t want to be the one to tell Leia that her son had died after being beaten by a gang who counted among their number someone who liked to listen to an unholy amount of Tom Jones.

 

“Okay, okay, what should I do?” She asked no one in particular. “Should I do CPR? I should do CPR. Do I _know_ CPR?”

 

Rey was just searching through her mind for any hint of the first aid they taught her in school, babbling away to herself as she went, when Ben coughed and spluttered back to life. She quickly pushed him onto his side so that he could cough up the blood and clear his airway enough to breathe. It sounded painful. Rey waited until his first relatively rattle-free gulp of air before speaking to him.

 

“You alright?” The question seemed somewhat inadequate. The incredulous look Ben gave her said as much.

 

“I think I’ll live.” Ben’s voice was stronger than Rey would have expected but she wasn’t going to complain. “Surprised _you_ helped, though.”

 

Rey sat back on her knees, trying to ignore the feeling of tiny chips of loose tarmac biting through her jeans. She thought carefully for a moment, wanting to phrase this right. “I couldn’t just let them beat the shit out of you.” Rey chanced a smirk – Ben responded with a mirthless chuckle.

 

“I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

 

Rey stared at him in wide-eyed shock, she couldn’t quite process his words properly. That or she hadn’t heard him right. Silence seemed to fill up every available space between them while Rey’s mind spun like a top. Her jaw shut with a quiet _click_ when she realised her mouth had been hanging open.

 

“I mean… the way I acted the other night…” Ben ran a hand through his hair; awkwardness saturating every part of his body language.

 

Rey stood up, not much wanting to look at the guy she couldn’t stand for longer than half an hour being awkward around her. It felt wrong somehow. He was supposed to be the villain, not some nervous guy who didn’t know how to talk to women.

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Rey found herself echoing Ben’s words from earlier that day, still not meeting his eyes.

 

Ben hurriedly rose to his feet, catching his helmet with two fingers as he did so. The faint glow of the aged lamp almost shone on the more polished surfaces of the head gear, though not as much as it should.

 

“No, I… I was an ass, alright? I know that now – pretty sure I knew that then, actually but…”

 

Despite herself, Rey’s gaze found its way back to Ben’s face. He really was a mess. The blood was drying but even in the diminishing light, Rey could see the bruises darkening. He was going to look like he picked a fight with a roman statue in the morning. Even with the distorting injuries, his eyes were what really drew her attention. They seemed to swallow what was left of the light whole; two pits of utter blackness and endless mystery.

 

“You’re going to want to get some ice on that,” she mumbled, hand waving vaguely in the direction of his face.

 

Ben looked at her like he was going to say something else, then thought better of it. Rey was still having difficulty comprehending what he’d said, or was trying to say, at least. Ben seemed to understand that and turned to leave, a quick nod that might have been his attempt at a bow the only thing announcing his departure. Rey did nothing to stop him.

 

It still wasn’t an apology, admitting he was an ass, and Rey wasn’t prepared to cross the threshold and say that she had forgiven him quite yet. She was, at last, considering the possibility, however.

 

She jogged back over to her car and snatched up the bag of parts from under it – the clanking from within seemed much too loud in the still night air. She turned in time to see Ben looking at her from the light-flooded door to their building. No sooner had they locked eyes than he disappeared behind the shut door.

 

No, not forgiveness, but certainly something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! You got through all that? Good going! Hopefully I will be able to do more uploads for a bit (fingers crossed) Thank you for all the kudos and comments, they are, as always, hugely appreciated.


	8. With Friends Like These

 The drumming started again that night.

 

Rey had contemplated going up there several times already to inform Master Arsehole that she still wanted her sleep, irrelevant of his whim to play noisy percussion instruments at stupid times of night. Unless her clock had developed a strange habit of skipping over several hours each time she blinked, however, Rey was sleeping in between threats of complaint.

 

By the morning, a heady quiet had enveloped the world – or, at least, Rey’s part of it. She wasn’t protesting. Her shift didn’t start until eight and it was twenty-past-six; a good time to say “five more minutes.” She wrapped herself tightly in her cosiest blanket – a green fuzzy thing that Finn had bought her last Christmas. Still her favourite present.

 

If Rey had her way, she wouldn’t move for days. Staying drowsy and cocooned in warmth as the outside world got colder. With absolutely no need to-

 

Ben started drumming again. An inescapable, staccato beat that had no real rhythm to it at all.

 

Rey groaned and threw one of her pillows at the ceiling. She instantly regretted the decision. Not only did it put her arm into the cold morning air _and_ result in a pillow landing flat on her face, but also highlighted the fact that – as she had thought the day before – her muscles _ached_.

 

There was a good chance it was more than just her muscles, actually – certainly felt like it. Even moving her arm was like slowly tearing herself free of a straightjacket; nothing wanted to give. Rey was close to concocting a lie that would convince Plutt to let her skip work but she knew he’d never go for it, _crotchety bastard_.

 

As she lay there in steadily-boiling irritation, Rey became aware of the fact that the so-called ‘drumming’ was actually much louder and nearer than upstairs.

 

In a fit of ill-conceived bravery, Rey threw back the blanket. Cold rushed in on her at every angle and did nothing to help her convince her body to stand up. She first rolled onto her side in the fetal position, then edged her way to the side of the bed. All the while, the banging was incessant and the cold tingled horribly over Rey’s skin.

 

She dipped her feet over the edge of the mattress – toes soon sinking into the sponginess of her deep-blue rug. Rey knew that standing up from this position – feet on the ground but otherwise still lying on her side in bed – would have to be done abruptly. With a quick motion, Rey pushed herself up from the bed; every muscle, bone, joint, and anything else objecting to the movement.

 

Shuffling as speedily as possible in a tank top and pyjama bottoms while cold and achy, Rey made it to the robe on the back of her bedroom door. It wasn’t the warmest thing she had by a long shot, but it was to hand and it took the chill off her skin. Rey gladly wrapped the aging garment around her body. Though the soft, chocolate-brown fabric was cool at first touch, it was soon having the desired effect of stopping Rey from freezing alive in her own apartment.

 

Once out in her living room, Rey realised that the banging was definitely _not_ Ben’s drumming upstairs. It was, in actual fact, someone knocking at her door. The length of time they’d been doing it, coupled with the fervour of the assault, made Rey wonder how the door was still standing.

 

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” Her voice was still woefully gravelly from sleep. Rey attempted a cough but she doubted its effectiveness; she never sounded quite like herself before her morning coffee. Regardless, the call did nothing to deter her visitor’s ceaseless knocking.

 

As she passed it, Rey glanced up at her wall clock to see the time – then actually looked at it properly to register that it was half-past six. _What the hell could anyone need at half-six in the morning?_

 

Rey slid the peephole cover to one side with her thumb. It was a feature of her door she rarely used, but the hour of the morning demanded the extra scrutiny. Closing one eye, Rey pressed her face up to the battered door and looked through.

 

She wasn’t even surprised when she saw the dark bedhead of Ben Solo.

 

What _did_ surprise Rey – which she only noticed when she unlatched and opened the door – were the blotchy hues of purple and blue splattered on Ben’s face. She knew he had taken a beating and would have bruises, but she had no idea they would be that dark. Rey was staring, and she knew it; Ben had to repeat himself before she actually registered what he had said.

 

“May I please put some stuff in your freezer? And, um, your fridge?” He sounded desperate, and a lot more tired than Rey.

 

The young woman blinked. Not for the first time, it seemed she had misheard Ben somehow. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

Her eyes darted down to Ben’s feet, where a couple of flimsy plastic shopping bags carrying frozen and chilled food dripped condensation all over the corridor tiles. Rey folded her arms tightly across her chest; as though the cold could somehow seep from the bags’ contents to her.

 

“My fridge-freezer died this morning and I can’t get a new one delivered until the day after tomorrow.” His words tumbled out one over the other. “Most of this stuff will go bad if I leave it that long – _please_ may I borrow some fridge space?”

 

“Why me?” The question came out much more uncharitably than a normal, fully-awake Rey would have phrased it. A tired, pre-coffee and shower, needs-to-go-to-work Rey, however, couldn’t be bothered with the niceties.

 

That derailed Ben somewhat. Emotions flared across his face in quick succession; hurt, confusion, irritation, desperation. Rey was, quite frankly, amazed that he could do all that without wincing.

 

“Because…” He released a heavy breath and rubbed his eyes roughly before returning his pleading gaze to Rey. “Because I don’t really know anyone else in the building.”

 

“You surprise me,” she deadpanned. “This is me, being completely shocked.”

 

Ben rolled his eyes and shifted from one foot to the other. “Ha. Ha. Now will you let me in or not?”

 

Rey considered it; wreaking merry vengeance on his sorry arse and letting all his food spoil, or being the nice guy and letting him have some space. She did have the room for just those two carrier bags, she thought. Just. Well, maybe more than that – Rey didn’t keep much at any one time, gave too much opportunity for stuff to go out of date. Her gaze suddenly snapped up to his pitiful face, she shrugged.

 

“If you can fit it in without taking any of _my_ stuff out, then I guess that’s okay.” Rey stepped aside, pulling the door with her.

 

Ben looked so relieved it was comical; the tension in his shoulders melted and his mouth curved in a hurried flash of a tired smile. Words of thanks poured out of his mouth in a way Rey had never heard from him before. She reckoned he was expecting her to say no. He gathered up his rustling bags and followed Rey through into the kitchen – depositing them on the floor as he arrived at her magnet-speckled fridge-freezer.

 

Stifling a yawn, Rey leaned on the doorframe to her micro-kitchen and watched as Ben yanked open the fridge. He stopped and squinted at her mostly-empty shelves, his head tilted slightly in mild confusion. His mouth opened and shut a few times before he turned to Rey.

 

“What?” She snapped.

 

“It’s just… is this _all_ your food?”

 

“You going to tell me you have more of those bags?” Rey inclined her head towards the steadily melting shopping bags.

 

“No.” Ben shook his head. “And I _still_ have more food than you.”

 

“Do you want the space, or not?” She asked testily.

 

“Yes, yes!” Ben threw one hand up in surrender – the other still resting on the fridge door.

 

He gave no more attention to the existing contents of her fridge, other than to move it out of the way. Rey watched as he pulled seemingly endless amounts of food from the two small, softly rustling bags. There was standard stuff, like eggs and milk, but there was also an assortment of unlabelled sauces that made their way into the fridge door. They looked, to Rey, like potion bottles – all different colours and sizes. Red, green, and brown; tall, short, fat, and skinny. Rey had never seen her fridge look so interesting.

 

She watched Ben the whole time he was depositing food in her fridge. It wasn’t that Rey didn’t trust him in her apartment, she just wasn’t ready to be off doing something else while he did this. It would put the whole situation at risk of feeling less like a favour and more… domestic.

 

Rey thought of the last time they were in her kitchen together; Ben’s confession and begging, her disgust at his methods of getting attention. That was less than a week ago – Rey almost laughed aloud at that. At the time, she was dead certain she never wanted to see him again. Now, she had stopped him falling drunkenly into the road, helped him steal from Plutt, rescued him from a gang, and was letting him borrow her fridge.

 

The notion did occur to her that this was all some kind of set up; that Ben had somehow engineered these things to happen as an excuse to spend time with her. That explanation didn’t quite fit, however, with his panicked expression at her door this morning – for all the stupid things Ben had said and done, his face always gave him away. Rey had never known someone emote so much.

 

_I was an ass, alright? I know that now_

The words kept going around in Rey’s head; echoing softly in her ears.

_Pretty sure I knew that then_

 

As Ben was coming to the last few items of food, Rey flicked her eyes over to the wall clock in the living room – an action only possible from her position if she half-twisted around. Her eyes locked on the clock face and her still-drowsy mind snapped into gear when she saw the time. _Shit_.

 

 _Seven o’clock_.

 

“Shit, I have to get ready.” Now _Rey_ was the one sounding desperate. She turned back to the kitchen to see Ben crumpling up the wispy plastic bags and shoving them in his back pocket.

 

Ben gave her an uncertain, empty look. He opened his mouth, but Rey gave him no opportunity to speak.

 

“I have to get ready and get to work – can you-” she’d started the sentence before it occurred to her that she was speaking to Ben, not one of her friends. Then again, he _was_ in her debt about the fridge space. “Can you shove some toast in the toaster for me while I go get ready?”

 

The bizarre nature of their current situation evidently wasn’t lost on Ben as Rey saw his brows lower in confusion. A moment later, he looked normal again and nodded.

 

“Sure, one or two?”

 

“I think there only is one slice left,” she said before rushing out the door, paying no mind to Ben disapprovingly clicking his tongue. Rey would have loved to hear how he managed to afford so much food yet chose to live in this mess of an apartment building.

 

Her shower was little more than a spritz of cold water and a waft from the soap bottle. She got out shivering and clinging to her towel until she could reach and tug on her designated work clothes. There wasn’t exactly a uniform, but it was advisable not to wear anything clean. Rey opted for an old sleeved top and a pair of _very_ durable jeans – both were splattered with oil, just like her other set of work clothes. Make up was a luxury for another life.

 

Hair still hanging loosely around her shoulders, Rey darted back out into the living room to grab her clunky boots; roughly shoving her thick-socked feet into them. A nervous check of the wall clock informed her that she was going to be late.

 

 _Quarter-past seven, and it takes three quarters of an hour to get there if the traffic isn’t too bad_.

 

As she raised her head from being bent over her shoelaces, Rey saw Ben hovering in the door to the kitchen; a plain piece of toast on the plate he was holding.

 

“I didn’t know what you wanted on it,” he stated, the question implicit.

 

“That’s fine,” Rey answered. She leapt up nimbly from the sofa and seized her breakfast from his proffered plate – making Ben flinch back. “Thanks.” She then placed it, deliciously warm, between her teeth so she could pull her coat on at the same time.

 

This whole display of Rey’s morning routine seemed to be a real shock to Ben; he stood in the kitchen doorway, still holding out the empty plate, staring wide-eyed at Rey as she reached over to snatch up her keys from the dish. Rey tried to smirk around the toast in her mouth, but it didn’t quite work. She was now incredibly curious as to what _his_ morning routine looked like.

 

Rey now had one final thing to do with regards to Ben occupying space in her fridge, the weirdest move of all. She didn’t have a huge amount of time to – _twenty past seven_ – deliberate the pros and cons of it, so wordlessly pulled the spare key off her mickey-mouse keyring.

 

Ben still hadn’t moved, though he had at least put the plate down. Rey strode to him and raised his large hand in hers palm-up. She placed the tiny metal key in the centre of his palm – it looked even smaller being in his hand. Ben raised his eyebrows.

 

“You trust me in your apartment?” His tone wasn’t one of wonder, though there was a definite hint of disbelief. In all honesty, Rey could understand that.

 

Rey shrugged, taking the toast from her mouth. “How else are you going to get to your food? Besides,” she waved her arm vaguely at the boxes and fourth-hand sofas she called furniture, indicating nothing in particular. “There isn’t anything worth stealing.”

 

She had no more time to hang around chatting about the ins and outs of how this setup would work for the next couple of days, and especially no more time to spend working out what Ben was trying to say with his facial expressions. The toast went back into her waiting mouth and her hands flew behind her head to pull her hair out of her face.

 

Without any further word, Rey turned for the door and headed out, shutting it firmly behind her with a foot and trying really hard not to think of who she had just left alone in her flat.

 

 _Shit_.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, she was only about six or seven minutes late for work. Plutt didn’t notice anyway, too busy giving one of his boys an earful for allowing someone to strip the engine of a Pontiac yesterday.

 

By the time Rey got home she was just about ready for some instant noodles and a big mug of tea. It wasn’t food for a king by any stretch of the imagination, but it was what she had, and it was edible. That was the sum total of requirements for food – at least until she could afford something better.

 

The young woman trudged in through her front door and dumped her stuff in the hall. She had a later shift tomorrow, it could be sorted out then. Backpack, coat and boots were all discarded equally irreverently. Her keys were flicked from her fingertips into the ceramic dish with a loud clinking sound, Rey hardly noticed.

 

She slogged into the kitchen and towards the cupboard overhanging the microwave. There was one of the shiny plastic packets left, chicken and mushroom, that would do. Rey pulled it down and plonked the crackling packet of dry noodles in front of her microwave.

 

Reaching to her left, Rey lifted the kettle to judge if there was enough water in it and, satisfied, clicked on the little light that said it was heating up. Next to be arranged were the microwavable tub for her noodles and the mug for her tea – both sat ready and waiting on her counter already.

 

Rey wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt, making a mental note to do a laundry run soon. Her clothes stuck to her body with lines of chilling sweat and grime. Rey didn’t much want to think about how she must smell. She was even contemplating a full shower before bed rather than just her habitual face-rinse.

 

With a tired sigh and a press of her fingertips into the back of her neck – massaging her aching muscles – Rey pushed herself off the counter and swung open the fridge door. Milk being the next thing on her invisible to-do list.

 

The sight of the fridge stuffed to bursting took Rey by surprise and, for a beat, actually thought it was a dream; that she had fallen asleep standing up. Sliced meats and cheese she had never heard of layered the top shelf, fresh fruit and vegetables were crammed in every corner along with an interesting selection of pickled things in jars. Her sluggish memory eventually came to the rescue, reminding her of the events of that morning. The sight of her few remaining one person ready-meals stacked against one side should probably have been a giveaway. Still, the amount Ben had managed to fit in there was impressive.

 

Rey allowed her imagination to wander; delectable notions of what she might be able to do with these delights instead of the instant noodles that waited for her. The kettle beckoned her over with the cheery _ting_ that signalled her water had boiled. Never had the prospect of instant noodles in the microwave seemed so unappealing.

 

Her eye was then caught by a clingfilm-covered bowl or, rather, the bright yellow sticky note curling on top of it. Rey leant in, keen to see why the contents of _this_ bowl get such peculiar treatment. The handwriting on it was thin and spider-like, but traitorously elegant.

 

_For Rey. Microwave me – 3 minutes._

 

She gave the sticky note several reads to make certain she had read and understood it correctly. For her? Ben had cooked something for _her?_ Why? It looked to be a kind of pasta dish; swimming in a red sauce amongst chunks of vegetable. Rey instinctively looked over her shoulder, and even considered peeking around the other rooms in her flat to see if Ben was hiding somewhere and going to jump out at any moment – convinced this had to be some kind of joke.

 

Looking between the poor excuse for a meal she’d had planned and the nicely-made dish Ben had made, Rey found herself oddly uncertain of what to do. There was, of course, the chance that he had put something in it to cause her problems, but what would he really gain from that? She could bolt the door shut and not allow him to get to any of his food. No, sabotaging Rey would only give her justification to exercise the power she had over Ben at the minute. _And he_ had _been shocked by what I eat, maybe he just decided to be nice for once?_

 

She still wasn’t sure. Her stomach grumbling loudly was what finally made her mind up. Rey slammed the fridge door shut and put away the instant noodles packet. Three minutes had never been so long.

 

Once she had her steaming bowl of pasta – which smelled distinctly of tomatoes and something smoky – and a fork, Rey settled contentedly on her sofa, curled on her favourite side. Comfortable and hungry, she stabbed her fork down and speared three hollow cylinders of pasta. A few gentle blows to get the scald out of the heat and she raised it to her lips.

 

Rey’s mouth was flooded with a tidal wave of flavour the instant the food touched her tongue; tomatoes, herbs, and garlic all swirled together. The pasta was a little soft for her but she could forgive that quite easily. It was the best meal she had had in weeks – maybe months. In less time than it had taken to reheat it, Rey had wolfed it down. She was only sorry she didn’t have any bread to mop up the remainder of the sauce.

 

The bowl was set down on the sofa next to Rey under a promise to herself that she would wash it in five minutes. Just as soon as she had gathered enough energy to get up off the sofa and return to the kitchen.

 

Rey woke up with the rough material of her sofa’s arm pressing into her face. As she stretched and moved, it became apparent that her bones and muscles had gotten used to being in _that specific_ position of being curled up at an odd angle. Everything twinged, enough to make Rey wince each time.

 

As her eyes adjusted to the almost total darkness around her – diluted only by the soft light glowing through the kitchen doorway – and her brain began to wake up, Rey became aware of the sound of Ben’s drums pummelling through her ceiling. She looked at the bowl resting by her side and thought now would be as good a time as any to thank Ben for it. Perhaps it was a small gesture in the face of all the ground he had yet to cover before Rey would classify him as anything other than ‘that arsehole upstairs’ but it deserved recognition.

 

Rey took the bowl back into the kitchen and ran the hot tap over it. A squirt of pear-scented washing-up liquid pushed around with a sponge and the bowl was shiny-clean. She made sure it was dry before darting out the front door and upstairs to Ben’s flat; wanting it to be in a much better state for returning with compliments than dripping wet.

 

The lift had broken again, to no one’s surprise, so Rey was forced to take the stairs. She hopped up them two at a time, a little breathless when she reached the floor above. Ben’s door was, like her own, only a few paces from the stairs and Rey was knocking on its worn surface in no time.

 

As she waited, however, poised to knock again, Rey realised that she could hear more than just drums; an electric guitar let off a few metallic chords. Frowning, Rey knocked again.

 

She couldn’t remember Ben having mentioned other friends, that said, she hadn’t given him much opening for that kind of conversation. It wasn’t as if the pair of them hung out socially on the weekends.

 

The music thinned out, but Rey still wasn’t certain Ben had heard her. She decided to call it a day. There would be plenty of opportunity to mention the food to Ben later. Breakfast seemed as good a time as any.

 

Rey was no more than a few steps away from the door when she heard the latch click open. She turned just as a cultured, smooth, female voice spoke.

 

“Did you knock?”

 

The door was wide open, inside the apartment were three people; Ben on drums and a reedy red-haired man held the electric guitar. Rey was only concerned with the familiar blonde titan.

 

She wasn’t wearing heels, but it was definitely her: _Phasma_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, that doesn't seem very good news for Ben, does it? You'll just have to wait and see what happens I guess - I'm off for popcorn I think.
> 
> Thank you for the comments, please do keep them coming!


	9. The Clean-Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to have time for (I hope) another couple of chapters before next week as I have a bit of free time, but after that my work load is going to get significantly heavier so we'll have to see how we go. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

_[I don’t know, Rey, maybe there’s an innocent explanation? xoxo]_

 

Poe’s well-meaning message did little to ease the unsettled feeling in Rey’s gut.

 

_[Like what? “Sorry my friends r basically evil but I’m fine”!!? xx]_

 

No, it was more than unsettled; Rey felt betrayed. She knew she had no right to be, they weren’t even friends, but that was how she felt. Rey had helped Sir Shit-Git far more than she had to and had eaten food he had made for her. Him being friends with Phasma – the one who hurt Finn so much – felt like one hell of a punch in the face.

 

All this time, she had been helping the enemy.

 

_[I’m not saying he’s fine – just that we don’t know he had anything to do with what Phasma did. xoxo]_

_[they’ve been friends 4 how long now? R has a point – he’s probs just like them X]_

 

Finn’s addition to the group chat didn’t help a huge amount either. Rey still had Ben’s food filling up her fridge and she didn’t at all like the idea that she was doing a favour for someone who would hurt either of her friends. Neither did was she hugely in favour of someone like that having the spare key to her apartment.

 

_[Before Ben met those two he was different, okay? I was friends with him. xoxo]_

_[People change, Poe, & if he’s anything like the other 2 then I want nothing 2 do w/him. xx]_

Rey hit send and stuffed her phone back in her pocket – she had to stop this pointless conversation at some point or her laundry would never get done.

 

With the basket held out in front of her, Rey pushed backwards through the door to the laundry room. She was greeted by the cacophonous rumblings of twenty-odd machines industriously operating in unison. Unfortunately, that meant that all of the machines were occupied, and from the looks of the timers, they were all long runs.

 

Rey let out a frustrated groan, dumping her laundry basket with a _bang_ on top of one of the freestanding dryers. She desperately cast her eyes around on the off-chance that she had missed one. Sure enough, amongst the spinning drums was one blissfully stationary.

 

“Yes!” Rey hissed cheerfully, darting over to the machine in question.

 

It was at her head height, so Rey had to go on tiptoes to reach the handle. Curling her fingers around the stained plastic, she pulled on the latch that would swing open the windowed door. When she saw the inside of the machine, Rey’s relief evaporated.

 

Sitting inside the drum of the washing machine was a pile of warm, damp, freshly washed clothes.

 

Rey growled and, falling back on the flat of her feet, let her head fall noisily against bottom panel of the machine’s exterior. Pain flared where her head hit the plastic, but it was gone in a moment. Her phone buzzed again, Rey ignored it.

 

There was nothing for it, she would have to wait for whoever it was to come down and move their stuff into a dryer. _Unless…_

 

Dropping her basket to the floor, Rey spun on her squeaking heel and rushed over to the dryers in the middle of the room. She wrenched open the one immediately opposite the washing machine she wanted to use and found that it was, very fortunately for her, empty.

 

Careful not to drop anything, Rey transferred the stranger’s wet clothes into the dryer in bundles of material. Once that was done, she slammed the dryer lid shut, wiping her hands on the tops of her jeans to get rid of the excess dampness. Rey contemplated putting in the handful of coins that would set the dryer going – a sort of apology for moving their stuff without permission. She then thought better of it, she would leave a note, that would do.

 

Rey quickly loaded the washing machine and selected the quickest wash that would get out the worst of the muck on her work clothes and not destroy her other clothes in the process. The machine was humming away happily in no time.

 

Seeing that it was working fine, Rey dashed upstairs to grab some paper and a piece of sticky tape for a note. In anyone else’s flat, these items would have been quite easy to find. Rey, however, had been tinkering with her robots again that morning and, as a result, nearly every surface in her flat was covered in screws, wires, and other parts. She was scrambling around for the better part of half an hour before Rey found what she wanted.

 

All the while, the thundering rhythm of His Royal Highness the Arse on his drums upstairs kept pounding through the air.

 

By the time Rey got back to the laundry room, her run of washing was almost done. From the looks of things, the person who had left their own laundry to dry out crumpled in the machine hadn’t been down to look for it – the room was still deserted but for the endless churning of clothes.

 

Her phone buzzed again

 

Rey stuck her note to the washing machine with one hand and fished the device out of her pocket with the other. Five missed messages.

 

_[I know that people change Rey, I’m not saying that Ben hasn’t, but I can’t believe all the light has gone out of him. xoxo]_

_[v profound P but i still don’t trust him X]_

_[That’s fair, though I will say that he only started hanging out with them because of the band. xoxo]_

_[what band? X]_

_[Hang on, I’ll get a picture. xoxo]_

 

The three little dots next to Poe’s name flickered on and off in sequence as he wrote his reply back. Rey shifted from one foot to the other impatiently, her eyes fixed on the screen.

 

The dots vanished and a photo popped up in the chat.

 

_[Here you go. Band’s called ‘First Order’ and he’s the drummer, goes by the stage name of ‘Kylo Ren’ – thinks no one knows it’s him when literally everyone knows. xoxo]_

 

The picture was dark – _really_ dark – and Rey had difficulty working out what was what. The most obvious part was the brilliantly-bright blur on the right-hand side of the image, taking up very little of the photo; that was Phasma behind a red-and-chrome keyboard. At least half of her, anyway, and she seemed to be wearing some kind of mask à la Daft Punk. The hollow-cheeked red-haired man Rey had seen the night before stood a little nearer the camera, and took up more of the shot. Gripped in his hands was a reflective, black guitar – Rey couldn’t help but feel that it was exceptionally menacing-looking.

 

In the back of the shot, nestled in the murk, was a dark-clad figure framed by an equally dark drum kit. Like Phasma, his head was covered by a mask, and it took Rey a second to work out that the mask was actually his motorcycle helmet. Rey’s eyes were transfixed on Ben; the image of him in that helmet doing nothing to settle her.

 

Rey nearly jumped out of her skin when the timer’s high-pitched beep went off right near her ear.

 

Her phone buzzed another couple of times as she slid it back into her pocket; laundry first, chat about Sir Grumps-a-lot second. She pulled fistfuls of clothes out as quickly as she could, feeling around the drum to check she hadn’t left anything and set off to find an available dryer.

 

Unlike last time, it wasn’t so convenient. Where she had been able to put the random stranger’s clothes into the nearest dryer, hers had to go across the other side of the room. Rey tipped her damp laundry into the drum with minimal complaining, slid the few coins in with a clatter as each one fell into place, selected the correct cycle and sat down to read her messages. This time there were only two.

 

_[what kind of a name is ‘kylo ren’? X]_

_[The kind where you want to piss off your parents. xoxo]_

 

Rey chuckled softly to herself as she tapped in her reply.

 

_[U have 2 admit Poe, it is pretty weird. xx]_

_[lol X]_

_[Hey, I wasn’t defending it – just giving you guys the facts lol :)_ _xoxo]_

 

Then, something about the picture triggered a memory in Rey. She hurried to type back to Poe.

 

_[Hang on a sec, wasn’t that the band playing the 1 st time u took me n Finn 2 maz’s palace? xx]_

_[Yeh, Maz has known Ben since he was knee-high, she gives him first dibs on the live music schedule. xoxo]_

All in all, Rey still wasn’t sure what her opinion on Ben Solo _was_ at this point. He was a pain in the arse – that wasn’t in contention – but it seemed he could be a decent human being if he so chose. Evidently he had a fair number of decent people around him when he was younger, so what happened? The big question at this point, really, was how involved with Phasma’s Troopers _was_ he? How much of a villain? Poe could argue that the Ben he knew was a good kid as much as he wanted, it didn’t change the fact of the man he had become.

 

The young woman bit her lip as she hesitantly put in her next question.

 

_[Do u think he’ll do anything bad? Having my flat keys, I mean? xx]_

_[Not unless you’ve done something to piss him off. xoxo]_

Rey thought worriedly of her rejection of him; then everything that had happened since. The scales were definitely tipping in her favour. For the time being.

 

_[No, he owes me for a couple of things, actually. xx]_

From where she sat, Rey could just see the timer counting down on top of the dryer – fifteen minutes left. Her phone buzzed.

 

_[why is it bothering u so much anyway? I thought u didn’t like the guy? X]_

Rey didn’t know whether to type in all the things she had done for Ben this week or just reiterate the point that he had her spare keys. A nagging voice kept telling her that she couldn’t hate him or else she would have left him to be beaten up or stumble drunkenly into some oncoming traffic – or any other number of things she could have let happen that would indicate a real dislike for him. Maybe she just felt sorry for his mother, Rey remembered thinking of Leia – the woman she had yet to meet – the night she found Ben puking his guts up by the side of the road.

 

She tapped her thumbs aimlessly against the sides of her phone where it lay cradled in her laced fingers, not sure what to put. In the end, she opted for short and sweet.

 

_[I don’t. xx]_

 

Rey shoved her phone into her pocket without a second glance.

 

When her clothes were dry, Rey bundled them back into the basket and made to go back up to her flat. As soon as she stepped into the corridor, however, Rey came face-to-face with the devil himself.

 

A look of shock passed quickly over Ben’s features; purple-ish bruises twitching with every movement of his face. As ever when he was playing his drums, the man was a mess; scruffy grey-blue t-shirt and black jeans torn obviously unintentionally at the knee, hair mussed by sweat. He pulled off his over-sized headphones – releasing blaring music into the air – and looked purposefully at Rey. If possible, it made his hair appear even messier.

 

“Glad I ran into you,” he had to push his voice more than a little to be heard over the music. “Got an email from the landlord; he’s been able to find someone who can supply me a new fridge-freezer tomorrow. So I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

 

“Good.” Rey’s response was clipped, and she knew it but she wasn’t really in the mood to talk to him at the moment. Not until she had worked out what she was going to do about all this. Not until she knew if he was even worth a moral dilemma.

 

That, and Rey couldn’t quite get the image of him on a stage out of her head.

 

Rey made to move past Ben, and at first he let her, but then, just as they swapped places in the corridor, he called back to her.

 

“Rey, is something wrong?” His expression was less one of concern and more one of confusion.

 

“Nothing,” Rey said simply, turning to leave again.

 

Ben didn’t try to stop her again, and Rey speedily made her way back up to her flat; closing the door firmly behind her, chain and all. With a sigh of relief, she took her fresh-smelling laundry through to her bedroom for sorting.

 

As she folded each item into the neat piles laid out on her bed, Rey’s mind tugged at the problem that was Ben Solo. She knew it was probably unfair to judge him solely based on the character of his friends but, then again, didn’t like-minded people generally gravitate together? Rey really didn’t think this would be an ‘opposites attract’ kind of deal.

 

There also remained the point of her feeling betrayed by him somehow. No matter which way she turned the issue, something in her gut still felt like that was what he had done; deceived her somehow into thinking there was hope for him. The feeling made her fold her clothes a touch more roughly than usual.

 

Rey was just folding a bright turquoise pair of underwear, when she realised that they weren’t hers. They were boxer briefs. Men’s boxer briefs.

 

In a matter of seconds, her face went redder than a tomato, she could feel it as her skin flushed with heat. Rey instantly dropped the underwear to her side as her brain quickly jolted from Ben Solo to misplaced underwear.

 

It didn’t take her long to figure out that the boxers must have come from the load of washing that had been in the machine before hers. That was an easy enough fix, go back downstairs, slip them into the dryer with the rest of their – his – stuff and walk away like nothing ever happened. Rolling the pants up as small as she could, Rey stuffed them into her hoodie pocket and made her way back to the laundry room.

 

Everything was going swimmingly, until she saw none other than Ben bloody Solo unloading the very dryer into which she was just about to slip the underwear. To her horror, her mind put together the information – as though in slow motion – to bring Rey to the conclusion that she had Ben’s underwear in her pocket.

 

Rey felt the heat creep up her neck, and took a few deep breaths to belay it. That did little to aid the fact that, red-faced or not, she was the only other person in the laundry room and Ben was staring right at her.

 

“Rey? Is something wrong?” He frowned, that infuriating half-smirk teasing the corner of his mouth.

 

Her eyes snapped up from the dryer to Ben’s face. “What? Yes, fine just, um-”

 

She considered distracting him somehow and throwing the underwear in either the dryer or the drawstring sack he was using to transport the clothes. It might be tricky seeing as they were in a room consisting of wall-to-wall fixed washing machines. Not even a window to point at. Then there would be the explanation of why Rey darted across the room to Ben’s laundry.

 

“Rey?”

 

No, distraction wouldn’t work. Maybe just leave it somewhere? Rey figured she could probably get away with sneaking the underwear onto one of the dryers but Ben had already seen that there was nothing on any of the dryer tops. It would be suspicious if his underwear suddenly turned up when Rey was around. She did _not_ want him knowing that she had it.

 

“Rey? Hello, anyone in there?” Ben had walked around the island of dryers to be standing nearly directly in front of Rey.

 

There was a slim possibility of stuffing it in _his_ pocket from this range, but Rey was reasonably certain Ben would definitely notice that. _Shit, shit, shit._

 

“Detergent.” She blurted out, keenly aware of how close Ben was getting; smelling of an odd mixture of fresh sweat and fabric softener.

 

“What?”

 

“I couldn’t find my detergent and, um.” Rey realised this wasn’t one of her better lies, but then again, her face was starting to heat up again. “Thought I might have left it down here. Right, I’ll, um, go now and leave you to it.”

 

She attempted a cheery smile and was fairly sure she overshot and went straight on through to creepy. Collecting herself, Rey turned to walk out the door. _Shit, shit, shitity, shitity, shit-shit, bugger._

Rey practically ran up the stairs to get away, her thoughts nothing more than a parade of curse words. When she reached her floor, she wondered if pushing the boxers under his door would work. Then it occurred to her that their doors didn’t allow enough space for her to do that. With a frustrated huff, Rey turned her feet towards her own flat and went inside.

 

Once there, she marched straight into her room and, trying not to look at them or touch them any more than she absolutely _had_ to, stuffed Ben’s underwear in her sock drawer. It was as good a hiding place as any. Next time Ben did laundry – and goodness knew when that would be – Rey would sneak it in somehow.

 

For the time being, however, Rey only hoped she didn’t go to bed that night and have dreams of helmeted men in boxer briefs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is that a pair of underwear in you pocket or are you just happy to see me? Sorry, couldn't resist. Anyway, here you go, some cheery stuff (this is supposed to be a fluff-fic, after all, I just lack the capacity to write something completely happy). Thought the idea would be funny *shrugs*


	10. Sticking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my word, I just want to say briefly that I am overwhelmed by the response this fic has had over the last few days; you guys are the best, cookies all around!

As Rey stretched up, reaching her hands to the sky and curving her spine like a swaying tree, she heard her bones pop all along her back. She winced at the sound, but felt better for it all the same. The unusual aches in her body from prying apart a gate with her bare hands had long gone; now it was just the customary tenderness that followed a long day hauling scrap in the autumn sun.

 

The door of her rattling car shut with a _squeak_ and a _bang_. Looking it over as a professional who hung around scrap all day, Rey made a mental note to put more money in her ‘new car fund’ per month.

 

The slight chill in the air iced-over the sheen of sweat coating Rey’s skin and made her shiver involuntarily. After a day of being far too hot from all her physical exertions, the sensation wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but Rey had no wish to stay outside any longer than necessary. The refreshing coolness would turn to bitter cold any moment.

 

Rey walked up to her apartment building – distantly noting the absence of Ben’s bike on the way past. She slid the first of her two keys – the bigger one – into the door lock and twisted. Within seconds of the latch clicking, Rey had to do the sharp movement of pulling then pushing the door to allow her admittance. It was probably a good safety precaution, she found it an inconvenience. The bizarre latch system would also be more effective, Rey always thought, if the door closed faster. As it was, she had already walked around the corner and pressed the button for the lift before the external door was two-thirds shut.

 

The lift had been fixed for a little over a week now, so it seemed to be staying. Given Rey’s hours, and the fact that she lived several floors up, that suited her just fine.

 

The scratched chrome doors slid open and Rey stepped inside. She pressed her thumb against the button for her floor – extra pressure so it would actually register it – and rested back against the side of the metal box when she saw the light around the edge of her floor number had come on.

 

Rey took out her phone and began going through her notifications of the day; couple of things on Facebook Poe in which had tagged her, a handful of emails, and several dozen messages on the group chat. She went for the emails first, to see if there was anything important before her phone ran out of battery any second. The sound of the external door reopening didn’t even make her look up.

 

A hand jutting through the sliding doors grabbed Rey’s attention though.

 

After a pause, when it appeared the lift was considering whether to admit the intruder entrance or not, the metal doors _whooshed_ open again. The look of relief on the face of the individual standing there vanished when his fathomless eyes locked on Rey. She imagined her look of displeasure was equally potent.

 

At this point, it was seeming as though fate was throwing them together on purpose.

 

Ben’s face was looking significantly better, at least; the bruises were paling to yellow and violet crescents cutting curves over his face. Luckily, there weren’t too many of them, though Rey was in no way averse to adding another. The cut on his jaw, too, was virtually gone. It was the arresting slice across his nose and right cheek that was still prominent. At a glance, Rey would say it was unlikely even to scar, but the mark was evident for the time being. Rey squashed down the sense of guilt she felt at seeing it.

 

Ben hesitated, and for a moment Rey thought he might let her go up first. She had no such luck. He strode inside – seemingly filling the small lift with his moody presence. Rey moved to one side so that they were leaning against opposite walls. The lift door closed again and they began their ascent.

 

The air between them had cooled significantly since Rey had discovered his connection to Phasma. If they were in a kind of apathetic truce before, they were flat-out enemies now. Whenever Rey ran into Ben, she was cold, distant; her words to him were short and clipped.

 

At first, the intention – at least on Rey’s part – was that this would be a temporary situation, just until she figured out if Ben really was one of the bad guys. His petulant nature, however, had taken offence at her attitude. No sooner had he returned her key than he was back to sneering at her in the corridor and playing his drums even louder just to annoy her. Rey fleetingly considered telling him he was behaving like a child and that she had things to figure out, but pride was a sin they shared.

 

Stuck with him in the lift, at least as far as her floor, Rey was strongly contemplating telling him anyway. Ben only glared at the digital display that told them the numbers of the floors they were passing. _3… 4… 5…_

 

Unable to go on in this way, Rey folded her arms and glared openly at him. “How much _do_ you know about the way Phasma treats her ‘Troopers’?” She spat, throwing her hand up for air-quotes before returning them to being folded over her chest.

 

She had barely finished when Ben scoffed back at her. “Wow, you really cut to the chase, don’t you?”

 

“She manipulates them!” Rey pushed herself away from her wall of the lift – a movement that brought her much closer to Ben than she would have liked.

 

Ben remained impassive. “So does Hux.”

 

“And _that_ makes it okay, does it?” Rey was starting to experience a swell of nausea; frightened that Ben Solo – Kylo Ren, _whoever_ he was – truly was the heartless bastard she had first thought him to be all along.

 

“I’m assuming this is why you’ve been so _off_ this past week?” The sneer on his face really was ugly.

 

“You aren’t answering my question!”

 

“ _I’m_ not the one acting like a fucking _child!_ ”

 

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” Both of them were shouting louder than necessary at this point, Rey was fairly certain. The feelings of fear, confusion, and betrayal all swam to the surface then, and there was no stopping them. “All you _do_ is strop!”

 

“What the _fuck_ do you think _you’re_ doing!?”

 

As Ben’s enraged voice echoed off the dented chrome walls, the lift stuttered to a halt; a sickening lurch pulling its passengers up then down in quick succession. The pair looked around wildly in confusion as the lights flickered and dimmed. Finally, the metallic grind of pulleys and cables was ominously silenced. They were left in stillness and half-light.

 

Ben was up by the buttons in a shot; the side of his fist slammed into the emergency call button. It beeped, flashed and did nothing. He hit it again; it repeated its previous response.

 

Anger and frustration widened Ben’s eyes as he repeatedly pressed the yellow button with increasing urgency. Each time, the thing beeped, flashed and did nothing. As Rey watched him, she was reminded of something she heard once about repetition and the definition of insanity.

 

“Will you _please_ stop that?” The beeping was starting to grate on her nerves.

 

“Only if you come up with a better plan for getting us out of here, princess.” Ben snarled, finger pressed against the call button.

 

“I told you,” – she went over to him and pushed her way to stand in front of the console – “to stop calling me that.”

 

Ben glared at her for a beat then, unhappily, gave up. He marched to the corner furthest from where Rey was then standing – she assumed it was to get away from her.

 

“We’ll just have to wait for them to realise we pressed _that_.” Rey jutted a finger out at the emergency call button.

 

“I hate waiting,” Ben muttered, slumping down to the floor in his corner.

 

Rey did likewise in her corner. Whatever the tenseness was in the lift before, it was gone, replaced by a loathing that reverberated off the walls. Rey refused even to look at Ben while she processed her thoughts. It seemed they were back to square one – Rey refused to let herself feel disappointed by that.

 

A scoff from the man in question aroused her attention. Rey raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. He rolled his head around to look at her, still leaning it back against the wall.

 

“I could always lift you up and you could dislodge one of those panels.” Ben nodded up at the matt-metal ceiling, a sardonic smirk on his face making it clear he didn’t mean it seriously.

 

Rey had no time for his jokes. “You’ve been watching too many action films,” she grumbled.

 

They sat in silence for a while after that; Ben brooding on one side, legs just too long to straighten out in front of him, and Rey organising her thoughts on the other. Neither one looking at the other or making any attempt to speak. From the corner of her vision, Rey saw every time Ben’s eyes flicked up to the call button.

 

Mostly, her thoughts were little more than; _you idiot! How could you be so blind to who he really is? This is the guy who thought it would be attractive to irritate you into spending time with him for goodness’ sake!_

 

Ben’s soft sigh wasn’t enough to pull Rey from the self-berating that repeated in her mind. “I’m only acting like a child because you are.”

 

_Are you serious?_

 

Rey looked at him at last, her face held an expression like she had just bitten into a lemon. “I’m not acting like a child!”

 

“Oh really?” He snorted. “Ignoring me, rather than say what’s on your mind – that’s maturity to you?”

 

“I-” She felt her argument dry up on her tongue. Loathe as Rey was to admit it, the bastard had a point. “That doesn’t give you the excuse to be a petulant brat.”

 

“Oh, so I can add name-calling to the list of things a mature adult does, then, huh?”

 

Rey growled in frustration. The man was impossible, really. Even then his lips were toying with flicking up in that arrogant smirk of his.

 

“I would rather do that than bully people to the point that they’re so afraid of what you’ll do it’s practically…” Rey wasn’t sure she wanted to use the word that rose to her lips. One look over at Ben’s expectant expression sealed it for her, though it was hardly more than a revolted whisper. “Devotion.”

 

Ben tilted his head up and closed his eyes. “You are talking about the Troopers,” he said without intonation.

 

In a handful of well-placed questions in the time since their run-in with Phasma at Maz’s Palace, Rey had teased out of Finn and Poe more of the details regarding what being one of the woman’s Troopers actually meant. Oftentimes, Rey thought she had probably pushed a little far, but the boys hadn’t told her to piss off yet, so she guessed they didn’t altogether hate her for the probing.

 

Being a Trooper meant absolute deference to Hux and, by extension, Phasma. It was a serious disfigurement of the role of a band groupie. Most of them despised the pair, and all feared them. Hux came from a powerful family and could, therefore, make anyone’s life hell. Phasma had started out as the carrot to his stick – where Hux was demanding and cruel, Phasma was luxurious and striking. She earned their respect until she had proven herself to be just as bad – if not worse – than Hux. At this point, she had, essentially, taken them over from the reedy red-haired man.

 

Neither Finn nor Poe ever mentioned Ben’s involvement in the whole horrible operation, but that didn’t make him innocent of it.

 

“Well?” Rey demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

 

A derisive bark of laughter escaped his lips. Ben lowered his head to look at Rey once more. “Nothing – I have nothing to do with them.”

 

“Hux and Phasma are your friends, and you say you have nothing to do with what is, essentially, their press gang?”

 

“You have no idea what you are talking about-”

 

“Are you going to say that it’s to do with the band? Because if you are, then save it.” Rey crossed her arms and stared straight ahead. Her eyes only flicked back to Ben a couple of times to register the surprise plain on his face.

 

“I didn’t know you’d recognised us.” Ben spoke quietly, as though he wasn’t sure if he wanted Rey to hear him or not.

 

Rey shrugged. “I didn’t,” – that got a further eyebrow-raise – “Poe told me.”

 

She didn’t mention that Poe had said Ben’s secret identity wasn’t really so secret.

 

Ben didn’t say anything after that. He sat, pensively brooding, on his side, and let Rey stretch out on hers. Rey wasn’t sure the quiet was any better than the sniping.

 

“Is that what you want to do?” Rey asked, her shrewd eyes fixed on him.

 

“What? The band? As a career?” Ben chuckled; it was the lightest he’d been all evening. “Well it’s better than my day-job.”

 

Perhaps this chat was getting Rey further and further away from the topic that disturbed her but she reasoned that if she could get Ben to loosen up, he might tell her the truth. Whether or not she would want to know it was another story entirely.

 

“Which is?”

 

Ben looked at her for a beat and Rey realised how difficult it was to read his expression when she couldn’t see his eyes clearly. The dimmed overhead lights played havoc with his normally expressive features – almost everything looked like some degree of scowl. Rey briefly considered shuffling nearer to him, but that would surrender ground she wasn’t yet ready to give.

 

As the seconds passed, Rey was coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to tell her.

 

“I wait tables.”

 

Rey knew her mouth had dropped open, she didn’t care. “What?” She could barely keep the smile out of her voice; this was just too good.

 

“At a themed diner.”

 

Of all the things she expected someone in a rock band to do for a living – let alone one who had the stage name of Kylo Ren – that was not it. Her shoulders shook with the effort of keeping her laughter in, until she heard a chuckle from the other side of the lift.

 

“Go ahead,” Ben said between joyless laughs, “it is pretty funny.”

 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” Rey replied automatically, still chuckling.

 

“You haven’t even heard the best part… the theme, alright? Amusement park.” He said it so deadpan, Rey didn’t have a hope.

 

The laughter ripped out of her in bursts – Rey threw her head back. The image of Ben – moody, dark-haired, Sir-Grumps-a-Lot Ben – dressed like an attendant at an amusement park was just too much to handle. It was only as her laughter subsided that Rey noticed Ben was watching her.

 

“That sounds awful.” She was still hiccupping little giggles here and there.

 

“Yeah, it is,” he murmured, not sounding wholly convinced of his admission. “The kids are loud and obnoxious, the parents are rude, the grandparents are ten-times worse. Everyone seems to think it’s a sin not to be smiling all the damn time – it’s hell on earth.”

 

Rey thought about bringing up the Troopers again – telling him what hell on earth could really look like. Just because he had denied it didn’t mean he was telling the truth. She realised, however, that just because Ben might be a bastard didn’t mean he couldn’t suffer too.

 

“What about you?” His voice sliced through Rey’s thoughts.

 

“What do you mean?” She frowned, honestly not sure where he was going with this.

 

“You want to work in a junkyard all your life?”

 

Rey shifted where she sat, not entirely liking this new direction of conversation. “I think I’d rather us go back to fighting, than small-talk.”

 

“Oh, come on, that’s not fair!” Ben leant a little towards Rey. “I told you about my life – now it’s your turn.”

 

There was a part of her that wanted to find his simplistic view of social interaction comical – and if she was less determined to do her dream job in the end, Rey might have baulked from telling him. It was a lot easier to take Ben’s scorn when she knew she would get there – one day.

 

“No. Simply put. I’m going to be a mechanic.” Rey hesitated, expecting the frown that usually followed that statement. “The kind that takes apart broken things and puts them back together.”

 

Rey stared unwaveringly at Ben, awaiting some derisive comment, but his face was steady – not even a smirk. After a beat, he nodded.

 

“Interesting dream,” Ben said at last, settling back against the wall.

 

He said nothing else. Rey was left in a vacuum where there were normally discouraging remarks and scoffs that a little woman couldn’t do the difficult man’s job – even Plutt had laughed in her face when she had asked if there was anything like that at the scrapyard. Ben just sat in silence, not looking at her.

 

“You never actually said what it is you _do_ want to do.” Rey’s quiet voice floated through the minimal space between them.

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“That wasn’t an answer either.” Rey waited patiently, but Ben remained silent. She pulled her legs up under her body and shuffled nearer to him to look him in the eye. Rey could feel the warmth of his leg next to hers. “What do you want to do with your life?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ben said at last. “No one has asked me that in a while.”

 

He looked at Rey then, an expression of tired resignation on his face. Rey felt it struck a chord with her; yes, she knew what she wanted, but getting there was proving more of an uphill battle than she had anticipated. Looking into Ben’s eyes now, Rey could see that he knew something of what was going on in her mind. For better or worse, there was an understanding between them.

 

The lights flickered and _pinged_ until they were back to their full luminescence. Ben and Rey gawped around in a similar fashion to how they had done when the lift originally broke. They felt another lurch and the small metal room continued its upward journey.

 

A voice came through to apologise but something tripped the switch that locked the lift during a fire alarm – Rey answered back that they were alright, just a bit shaken.

 

She looked back at Ben – both of them now standing – and saw he wasn’t looking at her. It was as if a spell had been broken and all Rey could do was get off at her floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my name is fate and I like throwing these two characters together on purpose. Hope you enjoyed - leave a comment to make me smile!


	11. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the Halloween special I've been planning! Mostly this is for a bit of silliness with the odd plot point thrown in for good measure - hope you lovelies enjoy it!

“Trick or treat!”

 

The call ran all up and down the street – the high-pitched voices of saccharine children creating an impromptu, out of synch chorus. That, or the sugar was starting to mess with Rey’s mind already. It wasn’t even seven-thirty yet.

 

She popped another sugary, chewy morsel in her mouth as she walked.

 

Finn and Poe had been the ones driving this need to go out trick-or-treating – well, going out in their costumes with sweets already in the little buckets they carried. They all knew very few people would actually give them sweets when there were no children around – except for a few of Poe’s parent’s friends, whose houses they were wandering between.

 

Jess and Rey, on the other hand, had pointed out they were a tad old to be doing this – originally. That was before Jess got really into making her costume, then it became something of an obsession for her that they were going out on Halloween. Rey was there to be with her friends but would have, quite frankly, preferred to stay in her flat with a mug of hot chocolate and a scary film.

 

Going out, however, had the added advantage of Rey not having to think about Ben too much. Which was better than sitting on her sofa dwelling about the whole situation.

 

He had denied involvement with the whole Groupie-Trooper thing but he _had_ known about it, and that meant he was complacent at the very least. Ever since their encounter in the lift, Rey had decided she didn’t _want_ Ben to have anything to do with it. They weren’t friends by a good way, but Rey had grown accustomed to their harmless skirmishes. She had even begun to think that they could tolerate each other to a certain extent. Now all that looked as though it was going to vanish in a puff of smoke.

 

Rey fished a caramel out of her bucket and continued bobbing along beside Jess.

 

The boys led their little troupe around; Poe as Silver from _Treasure Planet_ and Finn as Jim Hawkins. When Rey had asked why they didn’t just go as the original R.L. Stevenson versions, Poe had only said, “duh, Rey, cybernetic eye!” Of course, Rey had been the one who had had to construct the mechanical parts of Poe’s costume anyway – not that that fact had any effect on his costuming choices whatsoever. It only meant that his metal appendages worked, much to everyone’s excitement.

 

The later it got, the more the cold blew around Rey and made her shiver under her wraps. She was dressed as a mummy; wrapped in scraps of cloth over a full set of skin-tight thermals. The effect was as close to the real thing Rey could get without actually being a corpse – but it wasn’t tremendously warm.

 

“You okay back there Peanut?” Finn threw his head back over his shoulder, a massive grin plastered on his face and a liquorice stick poking out of his mouth.

 

“All good!” She called back, trying desperately not to shiver until he faced forward again.

 

“You would have been warmer if you had done the costume I suggested, you know,” Jess said from where she practically skipped at Rey’s elbow. The short wig she was wearing made her face look years younger. Then again, she _was_ dressed up as Coraline.

 

“How was I supposed to kno-”

 

“Well, well, look what I spy off the starboard-bow,” Poe said in a half-assed imitation of the ‘real’ Silver. His mechanical arm stretched out to the girls, a pocket telescope balanced in its padded fingers, but Rey didn’t need the telescope to see to what Poe was referring.

 

First Order were sprawled over a bench by the side of the road, surrounded by Troopers.

 

They had obviously gone down the group costume route – a fact that only got better the longer Rey looked at them. Particularly when the group they had gone as was none other than an ensemble of Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland.

 

Phasma had donned a full set of intricately decorated armour and, it had to be said, looked absolutely fantastic as Alice. Rey even thought she saw the gleaming hilt of a sword. Hux was next to her in a Mad Hatter’s get-up; his red hair pulled so that it stuck out from the side of his face. He looked like he had just smelled something disgusting. The Troopers were an array of playing cards and dodos that actually made the whole scene look like some wonderfully cluttered early twentieth-century illustration.

 

The pièce de résistance, in Rey’s opinion, was Ben. He stood against the nearby lamppost, scowling, dressed head to foot as the blue-and-grey-striped Cheshire Cat. Rey almost felt sorry for him, it really did look awful.

 

The four friends who stood watching this spectacle of renaissance proportions guffawed and outright laughed at the group. They were so obviously trying to be seen rather than out to enjoy themselves that Rey, Finn, Poe, and Jess just found it ridiculously hilarious.

 

The giggles only stopped when Rey saw Ben look straight at them. A chill gripped her heart and she told the other three to shush; a course of action much more easily said than done.

 

“ _Shh!_ Shut up! We don’t want them to get angry at us!” Even as she was telling them to stop, Rey was still shaking with soft giggles.

 

“Oh come on, Rey, it _is_ funny.” Finn wiped a tear from his eye.

 

“Absolutely,” came a low, rumbling, sarcastic voice from behind them. “It’s fucking hilarious.”

 

Rey and her friends spun around to see Ben Solo looming over them. It was difficult to find him intimidating, however, when he had stripy face-paint on his face. Nevertheless, they all managed to refrain from laughing again – something of a small miracle.

 

“Hi.” Rey tried to find something to say, but her mind drew a blank; she had, at last, caught sight of the large, fluffy tail attached to the back of Ben’s costume and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to stare.

 

“Yes?” Ben raised an eyebrow.

 

“Nice costume,” Jess piped up, the giggles still not gone from her breathy voice. Rey had to close her eyes and clamp her jaw shut for a moment to quell the urge to laugh. “ _Love_ the tail.”

 

“Yes, all the better to strangle myself with,” he retorted flatly. “Besides, it wasn’t _my_ idea… Jessika, is it?”

 

“Don’t forget it.” Jess winked at him, and Rey felt like she could have strangled _her_.

 

“Whose idea was it, then?” Rey asked, pulling attention his back to her. If Ben was going to be an arse, she would rather he bothered her friends as little as possible.

 

“Phasma’s,” he sighed. “It was this or Game of Thrones, apparently, but Hux didn’t want to be Ygritte.”

 

“Oh, I wish I could see that!” Poe said, with an attitude of absolute boyish mischievousness. Rey had no doubt he had already conjured the image perfectly in his head – confirmed when the man kept chuckling to himself.

 

A smirk flashed over Ben’s lips. “You and me both.”

 

The wind blew again and Rey folded her arms tight about her chest. She was going to go home any minute, she swore. When she looked up at Ben, Rey wasn’t sure she entirely liked the fact that he was frowning slightly at her – an unspoken question betraying the fact that he had noticed she was cold. Rey refused to answer him.

 

Short of anything else to say, Ben quickly changed tack. “So, what are you lot supposed to be?”

 

Small-talk really wasn’t his forte, Rey could see the chatter was making him uncomfortable. _Why don’t you just go away!?_

 

“Uh, hel- _lo_ – Treasure Planet, here!” Poe gestured at himself and Finn with the kinetic mechanical arm as though it was obvious what they were. Rey thought they were only obvious if you knew the film.

 

“ _Vastly_ underrated movie,” Finn added solemnly, nodding slowly. Poe soon copied the motion.

 

“I’m Coraline,” Jess said simply, holding out the corners of her bright yellow rain-coat. The eerie doll she had made jostled in her pocket.

 

“Aaaaand _you_ ,” Ben said, facing Rey, “would be the mummy, right?”

 

“She was _supposed_ to be the Other Mother.” Jess was, once again, very disappointed in Rey’s faux-pas concerning the outcome of her costume. Evidenced when she crossed her arms – again.

 

Rey tugged at one of her arm wraps. “How was I supposed to know what that was, I’ve never _watched_ Coraline.”

 

“It was a book first,” Poe pointed out obnoxiously. He didn’t realise how lucky he was to be on the other side of Finn, or Rey might have swatted him.

 

“Well, it’s a very nice mummy costume.” Ben folded his arms, not even trying to hide the fact that he was finding the situation exceedingly funny. A look of total smugness overcame his features.

 

Rey immediately took against the expression.

 

“Shouldn’t you be completing the set?” She jutted her chin back towards the rest of his band, who were shifting around in their seats to try and get a good look at the people to whom Ben was speaking.

 

Ben nonchalantly glanced back – so quickly Rey doubted he actually registered anything. “I don’t much like hanging around the Troopers, if I’m honest, bit creepy, so-”

 

“They _are_ people, you know.” Finn bristled, his tone taking on a hard edge Rey wasn’t used to hearing – especially given how cheery he had been just moments before. “Hux and Phasma _make_ them be who they are.”

 

Rey – along with everyone else in the group – whipped her head around to look at Finn. He was glaring at Ben, his jaw set and nostrils flared. Finn looked for all the world like he was challenging Ben to say something else.

 

In an instant, Rey’s eyes went back to Ben; who looked absolutely shell-shocked. Then the cogs of his mind seemed to turn.

 

“Wait, you’re _Finn_ , right?”

 

As soon as the words were out of Ben’s mouth, Rey saw Poe step ever so slightly closer to his boyfriend. For all the man said about there still being good in Ben, he evidently didn’t fully trust him. Rey could hardly blame him for that.

 

“Yeah, I am.” Finn puffed his chest out.

 

“Yeah, the one that got away.” An indefinable smile twisted Ben’s lips; at last making the Cheshire Cat outfit suit him. Rey really hoped he wasn’t going to do something horrible – something like call Phasma over.

 

“That’s right.”

 

Rey was seconds away from telling Finn to stop talking.

 

“I remember; Phasma was spitting feathers for _weeks_ after you left.” The smile had reached his eyes – a twinkle of light in their black abyss. If Rey didn’t know any better, she would say that Ben was _enjoying_ the memory of Phasma being pissed off.

 

She wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to make her feel better or worse.

 

“She was?” A traitorous grin crept into Finn’s expression.

 

“Yeah – talking to her back then became practically a suicidal task. No one has ever left her before. _Ever_.”

 

Rey narrowed her eyes at Ben, trying to figure him out. He seemed, to her, to be an ever-complicating puzzle that just made no sense. He was so-called friends with people whose distress he actively enjoyed and whose actions he ridiculed. Ben could turn from bastard to decent guy at the drop of a hat. Unfortunately, that also meant the adverse was true.

 

Finn, of course, was openly beaming by this point, and Rey could hardly blame him. Even Poe and Jess looked pleased as they congratulated him on being a pain in Phasma’s well-sculpted arse.

 

“One thing I _have_ to ask.” Finn turned back to Ben, the grin lingering still. “Did she ever write a song about me?”

 

Ben chuckled affably, then narrowed his eyes off into the distance as he thought about it. All the while, he muttered and mumbled song lyrics and titles Rey had never heard before.

 

“Well… not specifically.” His words deflated Finn somewhat. “But… ‘Traitor’ probably was inspired by you leaving.”

 

“I know that song!” Poe’s pointed finger jutted out into the middle of their wonky circle, pulling the focus in his direction. He stared, wide-eyed into space, lips silently moving as ha evidently went over the lyrics in his head. “Oh my god, Finn, it’s totally about you!”

 

“Damn right it is,” Finn’s smile outshone the streetlamps. He was virtually bouncing on his heels with glee. Rey couldn’t help but smile too.

 

It was only when Finn, too excited for his own good, jumped out from behind Ben and gave a great whooping whistle at Hux and Phasma that Rey felt concern bubble in her gut. The pair on the bench looked even less pleased than normal.

 

“That’s right, Phasma, what’re you gonna do now, huh!?” Finn was taunting them by moving from side-to-side on the balls of his feet, head waggling in a strange, staccato manner. He reminded Rey very much of a dancing bird she had once seen on the discovery channel.

 

“YOU!” Phasma bellowed, rising from her seat in a shot. As impressive as she looked sitting down in the armour, full-height she was down-right sensational.

 

At least Finn had the good sense to stop bouncing around on the pavement – though a _lot_ of people were staring at him now. Poe pulled Finn back by his shoulder, wide-eyed and a little breathless with laughter. All of them – Ben included – stared at Phasma to see what she would do.

 

“Get _back_ here!” The imposing blonde took a couple of strides towards the group; her ease of movement making it obvious that her armour was, at most, made of leather.

 

“Shit,” Finn said mildly, smile still as wide as anything, before taking off down the street with Poe – nearly falling over himself laughing – following him.

 

“Just wait ‘til I get my hands on you!” Phasma barrelled up the road after them at a speed Rey had hitherto not thought capable for the tall woman. It was quite a formidable sight; Alice chasing after a pirate and his cabin boy.

 

Hux and most of the Troopers did nothing to aid Phasma’s hunt. The redhead merely lounged a little more on the bench, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Others of the Troopers – generally the ones dressed as cards – jogged after their blonde mistress.

 

“They’ll be alright, I’m sure.” Jess sounded confident, but Rey could see she was itching to join in the fun.

 

“Go,” she said, placing an encouraging hand on her friend’s back. “I’m going to head home anyway – make sure they don’t get into too much trouble without me, okay?”

 

Rey was tired and the cold was really starting to get to her. Getting home and throwing on some food sounded like the best possible plan to her.

 

Jess looked up at Rey with her soft brown eyes. She wanted to be sure Rey was telling the truth, Rey knew, and once the woman was satisfied, she ran off after the boys. Rey had no doubt her friends would be okay without her – they were fighting their own battles long before she met them. That and Finn could run faster than anyone she knew.

 

“Can I walk you home?” The question came out of nowhere; empty air possessive of a low, reverberating voice.

 

Rey turned to face Ben, still unable to look at his artificially striped face without smiling. “Won’t you be missed?”

 

“Are you kidding?” He scoffed.

 

Again, he seemed to have little connection with the pair with whom he spent so much of his time – Rey found that odd. Now didn’t seem a very appealing time to bring it up, however, as Rey was in no fit state to hold a very serious conversation.

 

“Alright, then, lead on.”

 

Although Rey told Ben to lead, they easily fell into step together on the walk back to their building. She was steadily feeling more content to behave this congenially with him as he increasingly seemed distant from the actions of his bandmates – or perhaps it was the sugar-laced air around them. Either way, Rey couldn’t help but feel that it would be better if he took a stand on the matter, however, and told Hux and Phasma directly that it was wrong to treat people the way they did.

 

The walk back to the apartment building was reasonably short, but a little meandering as they avoided the busiest parts of town. A few times they ran into particularly boisterous children and Rey tried to scare them off with threats of curses – her attempts never worked, and resulted in Ben having to take over. Even in a top-to-tail – pun intended – Cheshire Cat costume, he was still scarier than Rey.

 

For once, that didn’t bother her at all.

 

They arrived at their building and practically collapsed, laughing, through the door. The last lot of kids had been dressed as mostly cowboys and one octopus. They had tried to take Rey’s bucket of sweets – at the point of a water pistol.

 

Once again, the children were less than impressed at Rey’s attempt of a frightening, undead, mummy. They had scarpered soon enough when Ben threatened to turn them into tarts for the red queen.

 

“I don’t get it,” Rey said between gulps of air as she slumped into the corner of the lift. “What kind of kid _isn’t_ scared of a cursed, undead, mummy?”

 

“The normal kind,” Ben teased back.

 

He punched in his floor number and fell back against the wall right next to Rey. She gladly felt the warmth of him seep through her chilly wraps. If it was anyone else, she might have been tempted to snuggle a little closer.

 

As their laughter evaporated slowly in the air, Rey looked over at Ben and gave him a gentle nudge.

 

“Thanks, by the way… for what you said to Finn, I mean.” Her words felt clumsy on her tongue. Rey wasn’t entirely sure of what exactly she was trying to express – but gratitude seemed the most accurate to how she felt.

 

Ben shrugged nonchalantly. “I didn’t do anything but tell him the truth.”

 

“Well,” – the lift door opened at her floor – “thanks anyway.”

 

Rey got out and pulled her keys out of her pocket. It was only as she pushed the key stiffly into the lock that she noticed the lift doors hadn’t shut behind her. She turned to see Ben holding open the lift doors.

 

“I didn’t know that was why you hated Phasma so much; that Finn was your friend.” He spoke softly, so that the sound only travelled as far as it needed to get to Rey.

 

“Why do you hang around them so much? They aren’t exactly nice people.” Rey put her frankness down to tiredness and hunger. How true that was, she couldn’t be certain.

 

Ben frowned, his eyes drifting away from Rey. “I do genuinely enjoy being in a band. Well, being part of _something_.”

 

The way he said it, that comment sounded far more loaded than Ben was admitting. Rey was but a breath away from asking about it when a sad smile cracked Ben’s face.

 

“This is a rather serious conversation to be having in silly costumes, don’t you think?” His dark eyes found hers, and held Rey’s gaze there.

 

The moment was shattered when the lift door tried to close on Ben. With a slight scuffle, he was easily able to push it open again – but not before Rey was giggling again. Her laughter was light and danced sweetly down the corridor, bringing out a smile of his own.

 

“Well, anyway, goodnight, Rey.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rey’s door creaked open when she pushed it. “Goodnight Solo.”


	12. Blind Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone order some cheese(y)?

The word flew around in Rey’s head like some hideous, inescapable creature; hounding her at every private recess of her mind. It was all she could think now – her entire world reduced to a single syllable.

 

 _Fired_.

 

Her fingers shakily gripped the steering wheel as Rey attempted to slow her breathing to something more manageable and less stuttery, but it was tricky. Her thoughts were an overwhelming kaleidoscope of panic, her heart raced to keep up and her lungs seemed to have reduced to the size of a pair of small teacups.

 

The moment Plutt had called her into his shack-like excuse for an office that morning, it had spelled bad news. Normally the obese creep cared little enough to let Rey get on with her job uninterrupted – the only reason that would change would be if Rey was in trouble, and _boy_ was she in trouble.

 

Just as she remembered it, Plutt’s office stank of stale sweat and cheap whisky. Not a good combination. The stench hit Rey full-force upon entering the room; the sudden creak of the floorboards slowing to an elongated wail under her weight as she hesitated at the door. Plutt stood facing her, a fat cigar shoved between his yellowing teeth. Rey wanted nothing more than to run. When Plutt raised his blistered and wart-covered hand to beckon her in, however, there was no retreat.

 

The squat man circled around her in an otherwise comically predatory fashion, a trail of smoke following him; letting Rey know that he would enjoy this. He hadn’t even done the decent thing and closed the door.

 

Apparently one of his lackeys had been doing inventory of their stock – Rey almost laughed when he called the scrap that – and had found out that she had been stealing pieces for “personal distribution.” Evidently Plutt had no idea Rey was keeping most of the scrap parts for her small machines and thought it was all going towards lining her pockets. The urge to laugh came on her again; that she would drive around in a car like the one she had if she was making decent money on the side.

 

Plutt handed Rey her notice and told her to get off his property within half an hour. _You’re lucky I don’t set the cops on you, you fucking_ thief, _but you ain’t worth the trouble._ The young woman herself said nothing – shoulders squared and no emotion on her face whatsoever, nothing to betray the fear and rage she felt inside.

 

Rey didn’t even bother to point out that no one ever did inventory; Plutt had obviously set someone to spy on her.

 

Resting her forehead on the space of peeling steering wheel between her hands, the rough texture of it grainy under her skin, Rey managed a few deep breaths, then a couple more. Turning her head to one side, she could twist her wrist to see the shiny face of her watch – just under twenty minutes to leave. Twenty minutes to turn her back on the only source of income she had without any kind of recommendation whatsoever.

 

Without lifting her head from the wheel, Rey reached to pull her phone from her deflated backpack. There was only her phone, keys, purse and a crumpled packet of tissues in there now – no more scrap parts. The rustle of material seemed far too quiet after Rey had become totally used to the cacophonous clanking.

 

Pulling the small device towards her now, Rey pressed the button that reawakened the screen – she was greeted by a photo of her and her three best friends grinning stupidly in their Halloween costumes. That seemed a lifetime ago. She unlocked it with a small swipe and opened up her contacts list. Her thumb hovered over Finn’s name; the desire to call him churning along with the nauseous feeling in her gut. In the end, Rey re-locked her phone and threw it on the passenger seat beside her. She could call Finn later – when he _wasn’t_ at work.

 

Rey took a deep breath as she raised her head, fingers still tightly gripped on the wheel. She was fairly sure she could actually feel the worn coating rubbing off on her palms.

 

As soon as she was upright, Rey could see she was being watched by Plutt and his goons on all sides – most gathered by the shack. That was one thing she most definitely would _not_ miss about the place; the slimy feeling of being watched whenever she arrived or left. Rey twisted on the ignition – glad that her bust-up car managed the feat in one go – and drove steadily out of the gravelly drive.

 

As best she could, Rey kept her eyes straight ahead and ignored the walk-of-shame vibe saturating the scene. In no time at all, she was down the road and gone.

 

Whether from panic or fear of the uncertainty Rey didn’t know, but she felt a warm tear trickle down her face.

 

* * *

 

Slamming her aging laptop shut with a low _click_ , Rey huffed. She was punch-drunk, quite honestly. Since getting home several hours ago, she had sent her CV out to almost everyone hiring within a ten-mile radius – editing it each time to stress different aspects of the same skills.

 

She contemplated phoning Finn again – eyes darting to her sleeping mobile. Part of her really wanted to talk to someone, another part wanted to shut herself away in her room and never come out again. Generally, it was the second half that won out – Rey was still learning to understand that when her friends said they cared about things that bothered her, they meant it. Nevertheless, she made no move towards the phone.

 

Rey stretched up where she sat; fingers lacing together over her head and curving towards the ceiling as her back arched away from the chair. Several joints popped and snapped like a log fire, but Rey felt better for it.

 

Getting up, she decided to go out on the hunt for something alcoholic; wine, a beer, _anything_. She had to take the edge off this crappy day.

 

A thorough scour of her kitchen, however, revealed that she had nothing even close to what she wanted. Or much of anything else, really. On top of getting laid off, it seemed that Rey needed to go food shopping. _Perfect_. All she had was a lone can of lemonade; which she polished off for the sake of having something to do that wasn’t staring at empty cupboards.

 

In a moment of impulsiveness, Rey decided that she would go out. Grabbing what cash she happened to have, a coat, and her keys, she was out of the door in a flash. A pseudo-reasonable thought entered her head that a change of scenery would be good for her – Rey knew the reality was verging nearer the self-destructive than the helpful. As she reached the car park behind the building – the wind now with an icier bite to it than when she had come in – Rey instantly discounted taking her car anywhere. While it was cold, she had every intention of getting reasonably drunk and none of leaving one of her more valuable possessions in an unguarded car park overnight.

 

Arms clamped to her sides for warmth, Rey trudged up the road to find a bar. It didn’t take long.

 

Shivering, she pushed on the shatterproof glass door with her flat palm. Her prints added to the hundreds smudged against the side where it opened. The warmth of the place enveloped Rey instantly – sending an ironic shiver right through her. Looking around, the young woman nodded to herself; this place would most certainly do.

 

It wasn’t fancy in any way – no chrome or granite in sight – just purposely battered wooden furniture and a long bar with every kind of liquor stacked behind it. Overhead, circular lights set back in the rough stucco ceiling bathed the room in a soft amber glow. To her left, Rey could see another room through a square archway framed by the same kind of wood that was used at the bar. The staff ran from table to table taking orders for cocktails and umpteenth rounds, each dressed in simple, unfussy clothes. About half the tables were full and, from the sounds of it, there was some kind of work-do going on in the room to the left. Rey moved towards the bar – stretching as it did almost all the way from the back of the place to the front, there was plenty of room, only a couple of patrons sat on the barstools.

 

All she needed was a decent spot to get happily tipsy.

 

Rey wandered down to about half way along – one of the overly-smiling staff taking her coat part-way there. It was far enough away from the front door that cold gusts wouldn’t reach her every time someone came or left, but not so far that she would look like the loner in the corner. Only as she was less than half-a-step from the nearest customer sitting at the bar, fiddling with his phone and running his long fingers through his flop of black hair, did Rey realise she recognised that particular hunched-over posture.

 

 _Ben_.

 

_Of all the places he had to walk into…_

 

He was dressed differently than usual – less black and no rips of any kind that Rey could see. In fact, he was wearing something that could comfortably pass as a smart shirt; a very dark plum coloured object with thin, subtly embroidered strips vertically covering the material. His jeans were still the habitual black, but a neater pair than Rey had ever seen him wear. Only his hair was in its usual tousled state. There was an outside possibility it had begun the night more styled, but Ben kept running his hand through it.

 

Ironically, for once, Rey was the more unkempt of the two, dressed in a ragged old shirt and a pair of oil-smeared jeans.

 

It did occur to Rey that she could turn and leave; Ben hadn’t seen her yet. Leave the cosy, low-ceilinged bar with its generous heater and selection of alcohol for the cold outside. Find somewhere else to drink. Somewhere that didn’t have _him_ in it.

 

Perhaps she was too tired, or too cold, but Rey took too long to make up her mind and Ben turned to look directly at her.

 

No sooner had their eyes met than a look of confusion then, almost immediately, horror crossed his face. Evidently Rey was not who he had been expecting to see standing there. Probably because of her sour mood, Rey responded faster to the situation than him.

 

“There’s no need for flowers or anything, I can see how happy you are to see me.” Sarcasm poured from every syllable.

 

When Ben _did_ speak, his low voice had an unusual edge of earnestness to it. “ _Please_ tell me that Hux didn’t tell you to come here.”

 

Whatever she might have expected him to say, it definitely wasn’t _that_.

 

Rey frowned. “I can say with total honesty that I have absolutely _no_ idea what you are talking about.”

 

Ben relaxed a little at that; a shuddery sigh of relief escaping his lips. He still looked like he was wound tighter than a drum, but at least the feeling that he was about to explode had gone. His hand moved back to his phone with a mechanical motion that Rey guessed he had been repeating ever since he got here – his drink was untouched. The device’s screen lit up for a moment before he locked it again and dragged his hand through his hair. Rey smiled to herself as the pieces fell into place.

 

Ben’s dark eyes drifted back up to Rey, their expression turned now to something more accusatory. He had seen her smiling, and worked out pretty damn quick that it was at his expense. The knowledge of that did nothing to wipe the look from Rey’s face.

 

“Waiting for someone?” She asked teasingly, quickly flagging down the bartender – a broad man with carefully-cropped hair and beard – for a glass of red wine. A big one.

 

Ben turned back to face the wall of liquor – looking for all the world like a bird with ruffled feathers. It was clear he didn’t want her poking around the subject.

 

What encouraged her to do it, the young woman couldn’t have said – maybe she really didn’t want to be alone just then, maybe that lemonade was stronger than she had thought – but Rey took opportunity to slide into the seat beside his. If the man minded, he made no indication of it. He did huff through his nose and glower acerbically at Rey. She, conversely, kept up her innocent façade. After a moment, he caved, a hand reaching out to fiddle with his squat glass. The liquid within shimmered from side-to-side. Ben didn’t take his eyes off it.

 

“Hux… Hux set me up on a… stupid-”

 

“A blind date?” Rey finished for him, completely unable to hold back the disbelief from either her face or her voice.

 

At least it seemed he was over his infatuation with Rey. Though going from a bizarre schoolboy crush to a blind date was perhaps sublime to the ridiculous in its purest form.

 

It was almost impossible to conceive it. Certainly, Rey would _never_ have believed it had she not been sitting there, watching while Ben glanced periodically between his phone and the door. What could possibly have been going through Hux’s head when he dreamed up this fresh hell, Rey had no idea – Ben Solo, on a date, with another human being. It was utterly preposterous. A wicked thought came to her that the only way to get someone out on a date with Ben was have them not meet him before hand, but she knew that was a bit mean. Nevertheless, Rey couldn’t – nor had any wish to – stifle the giggle that bubbled up her throat.

 

“Go ahead,” Ben snapped at her, “laugh it up!”

 

“I’m sorry.” The continuous laughing did undermine her half-apology somewhat, though another glare from Ben did nothing to quell it.

 

“No you aren’t,” he said simply, lifting his glass to his lips and draining the amber contents. Rey would swear she saw the twitch of his lips that meant a smirk wasn’t far away. Could have been a trick of the light. “You are enjoying this.”

 

“Well, I _have_ had one of the worst days ever.”

 

As if on cue, the bartender appeared with Rey’s glass. She mouthed a _thank you_ at him and pulled the glass eagerly towards herself. Her first sip was more of a gulp but Rey didn’t care. The wine was one of the cheaper ones on offer, and it showed; fruity in the first instant, then tangy soon after. It wasn’t bad, Rey actually quite liked it, but it was not one of her favourites. Besides, this particular evening wasn’t for savouring, it was for forgetting her shitty day.

 

“Evidently.” Ben smirked, raising an eyebrow at the way Rey quaffed her drink. “What happened?”

 

“You really want to know?” Rey took another swig and licked her lips.

 

She wasn’t sure she should be getting into this with him, not sure if she was going to rant or shut-down entirely. Then again, perhaps talking to someone she didn’t much like was the best cure – she wasn’t worried about saying the wrong thing or pissing him off. As kind as her friends were, Rey knew she held back when it came to complaining for fear of going too far. Regardless of any misgivings towards Ben, Rey got a nod in response, though she strongly suspected Ben was simply eager to get the attention _away_ from him.

 

“I got fired.”

 

“What the hell for?” It was more of a demand than a question; Rey might even have been tempted to describe it as a touch outraged. His eyebrows shot up and his eyes went wide as saucers.

 

“Stealing scrap,” Rey shrugged, the gesture being the farthest thing from her feelings on the subject.

 

Ben’s face froze instantly, his light complexion turning just a shade paler. Rey could see what was on his mind plain as day; the time she helped him steal from Plutt. It shouldn’t have surprised him really, stealing is illegal and, at some point, Rey was bound to get caught. Not that the possibility of it would have entered Rey’s mind as an actual likelihood before that morning. Hindsight was always twenty-twenty.

 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she added exhaustedly, far too drained to volley the full feeling of her bitterness at him, “they probably know nothing about _you_.”

 

Rey returned to her almost-empty glass. She didn’t want to deal with his concerns over getting caught, not when the ramifications were only distant possibilities for him, but had been very real for her. The wine was gone in a single gulp.

 

Rather than give any attention back to the speechless man on her right, Rey studied the dreg smears on the inside of her glass. She twirled the smooth stem carefully in her fingers to see the uneven elliptical mark gathered at the bottom of the glass, liking the way it made the neck look a faded pinkish hue when the overhead lights hit it just right.

 

“So,” even Rey thought her voice sounded too loud then, but she needed a clean break away from her own problems. “Did Hux give you any clues about this person you’re meeting?”

 

“Clues?”

 

When Rey snapped her gaze back to him she could see nothing but confusion written all over his face. It was almost funny.

 

“Yeah, you know, like… blonde hair, likes interpretive dance and grande cappuccinos, that sort of thing.”

 

“What? No. No, he hasn’t told me anything about her.”

 

“Told you she’s a her, though,” Rey pointed out facetiously.

 

The bartender swerved past at that moment; darting from one end of the bar to the other as customers steadily filled the seats around them. Ben waved him over and tap next to his glass for a refill; the bearded man behind the bar pulled out a large bottle two-thirds drained of its dark-honey coloured contents. Rey couldn’t see a label. When he was done refilling Ben’s glass, the bartender turned expectantly to Rey. Ben was there before she could even open her mouth.

 

“Get her another, on me.” He flicked his fingers elegantly around to point from Rey, to the bar, to the glass to indicate what he meant.

 

“Hang on,” Rey grabbed Ben by his shirt – the material balling up in her fist – while frantically waving at the bartender to stop him. “What are you doing?” She asked Ben lowly once she was certain the bartender had stopped.

 

“I am buying you a drink, what does it look like I am doing?” He sounded very offended.

 

“I can buy my own drinks!” She didn’t much like the connotations that came with letting a man buy her a drink – particularly when that man was Ben Solo.

 

Ben pointed at his chest with his thumb. “Person who earns money buys the drinks – it makes sense.”

 

“Fine.” She turned back to the patient barkeep, loosening her grip but not quite releasing Ben. “Whisky, please – I’m not a snob so something cheap is fine.”

 

Rey could have asked for the most expensive drink her heart desired, she was well aware of that. Making Ben pay through the nose for some ridiculous concoction might even have made her feel a little better for a while. She wasn’t that cruel, though, just because things hadn’t gone her way didn’t mean she could take it out on someone else. Even if that someone else was Ben Solo.

 

“ _Don’t_ say anything,” Rey warned, pointing a finger at Ben as she finally uncurled her fingers from his shirt. The last thing she needed was him complaining about her taste in alcohol.

 

“Wasn’t gonna,” Ben said, taking a healthy swig of his drink.

 

Once they were both nursing their drinks, and the barkeep had moved on to a skinny black guy with large glasses at the end of the bar nearest the door, Rey swivelled on her stool to face Ben.

 

“You really don’t know anything about this chick, then?”

 

Ben sighed exasperatedly. “No, I don’t. Except that she’s late.”

 

“Maybe she was teaching a synchronised swimming class.” Rey knew she was being childish but was in no mood to stop. The alcohol hadn’t even really hit her system yet.

 

“Stop it,” Ben said, though there was no real heat in the words. In fact, the quirk of his lips was back and it definitely wasn’t a trick of the light _this_ time. “She’s probably just some regular person-”

 

“Oh, no, no, no; if Hux thought she would get along with _you_ there must be _something_ unusual about her.” Rey drained her glass.

 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Ben turned to her, eyes full of thunder but a smirk playing on his lips – Rey actually found it pretty fascinating how he could hold that much disparate emotion on his face. _Now the alcohol has_ definitely _hit my bloodstream_.

 

“Well, you know,” Rey began as she watched Ben order her another glass of the stuff she had just finished. “Runs around graveyards at night, into heavy metal, face full of piercings… something like that.”

 

By this time, Ben had screwed his face up. “I would hope Hux knows me well enough to know that isn’t my type.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Oh no, we are _not_ having this conversation.” As if to punctuate the point, Ben gulped down a mouthful of his drink. Rey just waited, watching him with a childlike grin on her face; her cheek leant on her balled-up hand.

 

“Fine then,” Rey replied, the way her face was oddly skewed by leaning on her hand slurred her words a little. There was no way it was the whisky already, though her head was feeling pleasantly fuzzy. “I’ll just have to imagine what she is like myself.”

 

The bar was now comfortably full; patrons milling about chatting, the odd burst of wild laughter somewhere in the background, a general hum of varying degrees of inebriation, and the increased warmth that accompanies a low-ceilinged room full of people. Rey was rather enjoying it, though she had to admit the place lacked the character of _Maz’s_ Palace. Despite the obviously heartfelt attempt to make it look older than it really was, it was still too new to have anything on Poe’s favourite bar.

 

Rey’s focus, however, was totally on Ben. Thinking about all the possible oddities of his mystery date made it easier for her to forget the fact that she had no job. Ben was still half-heartedly trying to stop her – though his more relaxed attitude made Rey wonder if he hadn’t had a couple of drinks before she turned up.

 

“Maybe,” the word was as drawn-out as Rey could possibly make it while she thought of her next suggestion. “She wears those shoes with little wheels in the heels and that’s why it’s taking her so long to get here.”

 

Ben snorted into his drink; a short-lived sound that he did his best to reign back. “That’s completely ridiculous.”

 

“Oh, come on, get into the spirit of the thing!” Rey wasn’t sure how many she was up to now – though she was fairly certain her glass had been refilled again. She wasn’t about to complain.

 

The glass was once again raised to Ben’s mouth and Rey felt more than a little disappointed that he wasn’t joining in the game. Then, his hand stopped, the tilted glass hesitating before touching his lips. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a murmur.

 

“It’s way more likely for her shoes to have light-up heels.”

 

At that point Rey lost it. Her glass slammed back down into the wooden bar as her laughter rang out wildly over the surrounding din of customers. A few people looked over, none of them chuckled along with her like Ben did.

 

They were so engrossed neither one noticed the woman with short, curly brown hair enter the bar. They didn’t see her look over and see the dark-haired guy her co-worker Hux had told her to meet laughing with a pretty – if scruffy-looking – brunette girl. They missed the knowing smile.

 

Ben only looked up as he heard the sound of the door closing behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

“Maybe, _maybe_ she’s ginger.”

 

“That’s the best you can do?” Rey asked, dimly aware of the fact that her s’s were now seriously slurred.

 

They had both lost track of time, and whose round it was, several drinks ago. Rey wasn’t even completely sure what she _was_ drinking, though it had a nice, sticky sweetness to it.

 

Their ideas concerning what Ben’s date might look like, do for a living, and wear, had been getting steadily more and more ludicrous. That is, until the pair of them got to the point where their heads were too fuzzy to come up with anything new. This led to it becoming more and more of a game – where the only rule was you weren’t allowed to say something someone had already said. Resulting in the suggestions becoming a wild, swinging scale between the inspired absurdity and the positively mundane.

 

As time had gone on, the bar had gone from amiably knocking elbows with the surrounding crowd to borderline uncomfortably squashed. It was worst around the seated areas and the section of the actual bar nearest the door. Ben and Rey’s section part-way down the long stretch of beer-stained wood was significantly less popular, if still a little cosy. The only real drawback was that the bartenders – a second one had arrived at some point Rey couldn’t recall – were usually busy.

 

“Well, what… do _you_ suggest… then?” Ben leant forward in his seat for a second before lurching backwards and reaching for the remnants of his drink – something much darker in colour than what he had had before.

 

“I don’t _know!_ ” Rey answered, much too emphatically. Ben started to laugh at her. “Maybe she… _oo!_ Maybe she is a champion ice-skater!”

 

“We’ve had that one.” Ben shook his head, dark clumps of hair swinging in front of his eyes.

 

“No we haven’t,” Rey piped up indignantly. “I said roller derby but-”

 

“And then _I_ said ice-skater.” Ben pushed Rey’s drink towards her to indicate that she had to drink; the agreed upon punishment for repetition.

 

“But not _champion_ – it counts.”

 

“Okay, then you only have to drink half of your drink,” he chuckled.

 

Rey conceded and swigged half of the remainder of her sweet and heady drink. For the way it had begun – and Rey was somewhat hazy on that just then – the evening had turned into something oddly enjoyable. If anyone had told her she could go out drinking with Ben Solo and _not_ want to rip his face off, she would have sent them packing. As it happened, Rey found she didn’t mind her current situation.

 

“I think the point is… rather moot now… anyway, she’s stood me up.” Ben looked at his phone for the first time in hours, pushing his empty glass away.

 

“There’s still time… isn’t there?” Rey frowned. _Can’t be that late_.

 

“Well…” Ben considered the lit-up screen of his phone until it automatically switched off. “She was s’posed to be here at… seven and it’s,” – he clicked his phone screen back on – “ten forty-six now.”

 

“She might have, like, a reverse-Cinderella deal.”

 

“What…?” Ben’s mouth opened and closed as though he intended to make his question a full sentence but, in the end, decided to leave it at one word.

 

“She can only come out _after_ midnight.”

 

Ben spluttered and chortled while Rey started giggling – partially at her silly suggestion, partially in response to his laugh. It was, as she had previously observed, inescapably infectious. Her stomach actually started to ache as laughter jubilantly wracked her body and Rey knew that she wasn’t breathing properly. Hiccups were sure to follow if she didn’t control this quick. A few deep breaths and she was fine – Ben was wiping a few errant tears from his eyes.

 

Having got her breath back, Rey looked around the crowd, one hand lay in her lap, the other absently fiddled with her glass; sending the sweet liqueur swirling in all directions. On the one hand, she wanted to stay up and drink herself into a stupor – now that she was halfway there. On the other, she was tired and getting to the point where she wanted this day to be over.

 

“I think I’m going to head back,” she said softly.

 

Ben looked instantly disappointed. “Really? But it isn’t even midnight yet.”

 

“It’s been a long day.” Honesty seemed the best course.

 

There was a moment, then, of stillness – almost silence. Some kind of spell that fell over the pair of them where they sat, each one considering the other in a muddled and alcohol-driven fashion. It was a strange peace, not one that Rey held out any hope of lasting, but she would take it as it came. She smiled at him; it felt drunkenly goofy and lopsided as she did it but he could manage little better.

 

It went as suddenly as it had descended; the hubbub of the bar around them came rushing back in as Rey reached for her glass and necked the last drop of her drink. The sweetness stuck to her lips and lingered deliciously on the way down her throat. If she could remember what it was, Rey would be sure to order another one sometime in the future.

 

“Well,” Ben’s low voice cut through the background noise, “if you insist on going home, then I should escort you.”

 

“What!?” Rey scoffed, fishing out her cash – amounting to just shy of a twenty – and throwing it all on the bar. It wouldn’t cover their whole evening’s imbibements, but it would go a long way.

 

In an exaggerated sweep, accompanied by an ear-splitting scape, Ben pushed his stool back and hopped to the floor. He hardly needed to – Ben could practically touch the floor with his whole foot while sitting on the barstool. Rey still chuckled at the display as she dismounted her own chair.

 

“I shall escort you to your door,” he gave a hap-hazard approximation of a bow, “m’lady.” Once he straightened, Ben poked around the notes and coins Rey had deposited on the counter and began adding his own.

 

“Can you even remember the way home?” The chuckle was still in her voice.

 

“Of course…” Ben picked up a five that Rey had put down and handed it back to her – shushing any protest. “The general direction, anyway,” he added with a mischievous smirk.

 

Rey was steadily growing to think that she _much_ preferred Ben when he was drunk.

 

Having closed up and finished any remaining drink, the pair stumbled back out onto the street. The first thing that hit Rey was how much _colder_ it had become and she quickly pulled on her recently retrieved coat. Ben simply rubbed his hands together.

 

The frosty night air gusted gently at their backs; as though ushering them home. They walked close together all the way back to the building, the cold discouraging either one from moving too far away from the other. Every so often, Rey would shiver, and Ben would walk a little closer.

 

Ben seemed content not to fill the journey back with endless talk – Rey had no problem with that. Most of the sounds on the way to their building came from chortling passers-by and the rushing cars going past. Once, Rey thought she heard an owl. Any talk between them came from spontaneous observations or when Rey slipped on a patch of ice and bumped down to the ground and Ben told her to be careful. These moments soon died back into something akin to companionable silence.

 

One effect the cold had had, however, was to sober Rey up a bit. She couldn’t tell its effect on Ben, but she was certainly more aware of her situation than she had been inside the body-heat-oven of the bar.

 

Her thoughts still swam through the murk caused by the alcohol, and trying to figure anything out would have been an exercise in futility. Nevertheless, Rey pondered her feelings on the whole thing; meeting Ben at the bar, letting him buy her a drink, enjoying herself. In all honesty, it felt more than a bit surreal to Rey – or perhaps that was the way the world seemed to be swaying under her feet like a ship.

 

Whatever Rey’s feelings on the subject on Ben Solo, her primary concern was getting to bed sooner rather than later. She was more than content to let go of her previous train of thought, therefore, when she and Ben reached their building.

 

They decided to risk the lift, despite their previous problems with it. Luckily, there was no issue with it this time – though Ben pointed out that it smelled much too strongly of cheap cologne. The doors perfunctorily slid open at Rey’s floor and she walked out. Turning, she saw Ben leaning up against the doors of the lift; virtually draping himself over them to hold them open.

 

“There,” he said smugly. “Home safe and dry.”

 

“Think you’ll be okay to make to your door?” Rey teased back, her words still blurring together somewhat.

 

Ben exaggerated seriously thinking about the question – Rey couldn’t help but laugh. To make matters worse, the doors then started to close on him. Ben’s face jolted into an expression of shock as his limbs began to be folded in by the dented metal doors. It took minimal strength for him to offer resistance and reclaim control of the situation. Rey was still sniggering when he was done.

 

“I think I can manage it.” Ben added a definitive nod for effect. Rey was comforted that at least she wasn’t the only one who sounded like they were completely hammered.

 

“Okay, goodnight Solo,” Rey called as she wandered slowly back to her door.

 

“Goodnight.” He grinned, moving backwards to allow the doors to close on him.

 

It was only as she heard the doors start to grind closed that Rey heard Ben was still talking. As inebriated as she was, the words that flew nonchalantly out of his mouth made the young woman freeze where she stood.

 

“I had a good time tonight… it was a nice date – I’ll tell Hux.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to update - you are all the best, thank you so much for sticking with it (and me). The craziness of the semester is largely over so I am hoping to have more writing time!


	13. Communication Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever; thank you for your wonderful messages - each one really does light up my day. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Sunlight shone through the frost-edged window, bathing the table at which Rey sat in gentle warmth – only absent when an icy cloud lumbered in the way or on the rare occasions the door opened to the cold external world, blowing frigid wind across Rey’s exposed neck. Having her hair up in three buns certainly looked good, but it did nothing to keep Rey warm. For the time being, however, that was, blissfully, not a concern. As it was, Rey lolled with her upper-half stretched over the candy-blue table top, her fingers wrapped over the curved edge on the other side. The tentative heat warmed her outstretched arms pleasantly through her thick, plum-coloured woollen jumper. It was heavenly.

 

The only matter of complaint was the headache tightening around her skull. Maybe it was better than a full-blown hangover, but Rey would happily pass if given the option.

 

Finn sat opposite her, his crumb-filled plate just to the left of Rey’s fingers, and Jess perched by her side, having pinched a chair from the next table. It was lucky there weren’t too many people in the patisserie that day, or Jess would have found herself on the wrong side of several customers trying to get from one side of the small shop to the other. Particularly given that she was supposed to be working.

 

“I don’t even know what I’m going to do,” Rey mumbled, face-down, into the table, her breath fogging up the shiny surface.

 

“What was that, hun?” Jess’ disembodied voice said from somewhere near Rey’s left elbow.

 

Rey turned her head to face her friend, her cheek flattened against the now slightly-damp table. She blinked slowly. “I said I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

 

“Call him,” Jess shrugged, arms folded loosely over her chest.

 

“No!” Rey screwed her whole face up – instantly relaxing it when the motion made her headache worse. “Not about _that_ … about a job – money!”

 

Over the course of the two hours Rey had been hanging around Poe’s patisserie that morning, she had told her friends everything that had happened the day before. This spanned from getting fired in the morning to her torrent of applications to getting drunk with Ben when _he_ was supposed to be on a date. It was quite the tale. Jess had certainly found amusement in it – laughing teasingly whenever Rey insisted it was _not_ a date.

 

Every so often in her story, however, came the punctuating chime of her phone receiving yet another rejection email. The only one of her applications to come back positive thus far was some grunt-work office position that she really didn’t want. Rey needed the money, however, so the interview was in half an hour. When she had told Finn how quickly they wanted to see her, his eyebrows had shot up.

 

To be fair, that had been her reaction as well.

 

As a result of the need to make an impression, therefore, Rey had made sure to wear one of her smarter outfits; the black slacks she had bought for special occasions then never actually worn and a long-sleeved blue shirt Rey didn’t even know she had. Over the top of that went a comfy knitted jumper that was, quite frankly, the only thing protecting her from the biting cold outside. The young woman promised herself that when she started making a decent wage, she would get herself some _warm_ smart clothes.

 

The clouds came out and covered the sun, making Rey shiver. _Yeah, I definitely need warmer interview clothes_. She remained exactly as she was, spread out over the table; willing her body to warm up. At least the patch of table seemed to have thawed a little from her body heat in the time she had been there. Rey sighed deeply and continued the explanation of her predicament.

 

“I had a look at my bank account this morning,” – this was met by sharp intakes of breath from both Jess and Finn – “and if I want to make rent the month after next _and_ go food shopping, then I need a job… _now_.”

 

As it was, she could only just about make _next_ month’s rent. Things were going to get desperate _quickly_ if she didn’t find some form of income.

 

“I’m sorry that I can’t offer you anything,” Poe said, appearing out of apparently nowhere to loop around Jess and push Rey into a sitting position so that he could deposit a large butter croissant in front of her. “But the finances just won’t stretch to another pair of hands – not that the current ones are really earning their keep,” he added with a mischievous look at Jess.

 

The short brunette responded by sticking out her tongue.

 

Rey didn’t notice any of it, her attention trained solely on the food – for which she was more than happy to move. When she replied to Poe, Rey didn’t even look up from the plate. “No worries.”

 

Poe chuckled as Rey tucked in; slathering conserve over the chunk she had just ripped off before shoving it in her mouth. She gave a loud, only-slightly-exaggerated, hum of contentment when the sweetness and wonderfully soft pastry hit her tongue. She honestly believed that the man couldn’t bake badly if he tried.

 

“The croissant is on the house,” Poe said with a wink.

 

Both Rey and Finn looked up in surprise. Had she not been mid-chew, Rey would have protested that she couldn’t possibly accept his generosity – fully anticipating accepting it if he pressed even the tiniest bit. Finn had the advantage, and he got there first.

 

“What? What about me, don’t _I_ get free food?” Finn pointed at his plate of crumbs, practically pouting. Even Rey could tell he was laying it on thick as a tease; it was a common enough move of his. A free pastry was not his end goal.

 

“You have to pay,” Poe replied as flatly as he could – still unable to banish the impish twinkle from his velvety-brown eyes. He knew this game as well anyone else there.

 

Finn barely missed a beat before his inevitable query came. “May I at least kiss the cook?” He still managed to make it sound like he was actually a complaining customer and Rey couldn’t help but giggle, virtually slapping a hand to her face to stop crumbs from flying everywhere.

 

Poe actually pretended to think about it for a bit – pursing his lips and everything. For a moment, Rey wondered if he might refuse. From the look on his face, Finn was thinking the same thing. Then Poe’s expression melted into an easy smile. “You may.”

 

He leant down and pressed his lips to Finn’s – who now looked incredibly relieved.

 

Rey tried to supress the slight pang of jealousy that came with seeing them like this. It wasn’t that she begrudged her best friends’ relationship, far from it, but it did hammer-home that she didn’t have anyone in that way. No one with whom to share the kind of intimacy that Poe and Finn had. Much though Rey rarely admitted it out loud, that fact did sting a little.

 

When she was a teenager, Rey had never wanted anything like that: a Relationship with a capital R. She had enjoyed being alone and had pushed other people as far away as possible; to a certain extent, she still did. The whole ‘significant other’ shtick had seemed ridiculous and, if Rey was quite honest, a weakness. She made fun of other kids who had coupled-up all the time.

 

Now that she had friends who loved her, however, Rey had had a taste of the whole caring thing first-hand. She wanted more of it. Rey was greedy in her desire to feel loved and wanted in every possible way a person could be so – until meeting her collection of oddballs she call friends it had been so alien to her. Her current sights were – however well-buried within self-denial – set on finding out what that was like; that level of intimacy and love. Though not having a job or any decent prospects didn’t feel to Rey like the best place from which to be starting a relationship.

 

Jess was much less inclined to hide her feelings. “You two are sickeningly cute sometimes, you know that?” The question was asked with a wry smile.

 

“Yup,” Finn answered, glib grin on his face.

 

Yeah, Rey wanted to know exactly what that felt like – it would certainly be better than the headache she was nursing.

 

“You know – back onto the subject at hand – Maz is almost always hiring,” Poe said nonchalantly as he snatched up Finn’s plate, planting another kiss on his boyfriend’s blushing cheek. “I could probably set you up, if you want?”

 

“Maz? As in _Maz’s Palace_ Maz?” Rey frowned, rubbing away a bit of the pain over her left temple.

 

“The very same.”

 

Rey pensively chewed her next mouthful of croissant – aware of its warmth seeping quickly away into the air and pastry never tasted the same cold. A bartending job wasn’t exactly high on the list either, but she _had_ done it before and it would be a damn sight more interesting than office work.

 

Suddenly, Jess leaned towards Rey – her hand theatrically blocking her mouth from Poe’s line of sight despite the fact that her tone was only just quiet enough to qualify as a stage-whisper. “You do _not_ want to ask why positions keep becoming available.”

 

Well if Rey hadn’t before, she certainly did now.

 

“Hey! Maz is an excellent boss!” Poe playfully swatted Jess’ arm with the back of his hand.

 

“Never said she wasn’t,” Jess directed at Poe, turning back to her two friends at the table as she rose from her borrowed seat. “It’s more to do with the people she hires and the activities they get up to in their free time.”

 

Poe gave a reluctant nod at that. Evidently Maz’s hiring policy was the ‘no questions asked’ kind. Rey wasn’t exactly surprised. The bar was a decent hangout, but it did feel like the sort of place where it would be sensible to watch your back.

 

“And if _that_ doesn’t work out,” Jess continued, having put her chair back next to the cherry-red table it was supposed to accompany. “You could always strip – you’ve got the body for it.”

 

Finn’s eyes bulged and his face turned plum-red so fast Rey was actually a little concerned for him. If he had had anything in his mouth Rey was ninety-percent certain he would have either choked on it or spit it all over the table. Jess didn’t miss a beat; her high, chiming giggle resounded throughout the patisserie.

 

“What?” She smirked, having reeled-in her laughter. “How do you think I paid for college?”

 

“For college?” Finn raised an eyebrow – he was over the initial shock of Jess’ suggestion, at least, though not all the way to full sentences. Rey wondered if his over-active imagination had already provided a mental image of Jess dancing in a revealing costume.

 

 _That_ thought nearly had Rey chuckling herself. One questioning look from Poe at her ambiguous smile was enough for her to put on the brakes and pop the last piece of conserve-covered croissant in her mouth.

 

“Mmm-hmm, and _now_ look what I’m doing with my degree.” Jess rolled her eyes.

 

“Hey!” Poe’s head snapped around to look at the woman. He actually looked hurt then; his mouth dropping half-open and his eyebrows inching closer in confusion.

 

Rey could understand it, joke or not, the patisserie was Poe’s pride and joy. After being given it by his parents, Poe had really made the place into something he could call his own as much as it was his parents’. Jess casting aspersions – no matter how harmless – were bound to hit a nerve.

 

The moment didn’t last long before Poe smiled one of his ‘it’s all good’ smiles. By way of a quiet apology, Jess surreptitiously took the plate he was still holding and the one that Rey had just finished using. She dodged around Poe in a mirror of the movement he had made to get to them and made her way to the kitchen door behind the counter – with Poe following her.

 

Rey’s attention was then pulled back to Finn when she felt his warm hand covering hers. “It’ll work out, peanut,” he said softly. “We’ve all got your back.”

 

“Thanks Finn.” She mustered a smile for him though, in all honesty, Rey wasn’t really feeling like smiling.

 

The sun re-emerged from behind the cloud and Rey felt once again the pleasing balminess that came with the bright rays. She stretched her arms back across the table – this time with her head up and facing Finn. If she reached out far enough, the tips of her fingers could just about brush his blue-grey sweatshirt.

 

“Oh, I know!” Jess piped up once more from the door to the kitchen, blocking Poe from pushing past her. “You can move in with me if things get too tight.”

 

“We _just_ moved her into her current place!” Finn answered, exasperated, his hand _thwacking_ onto the table top to punctuate his point.

 

Rey jumped up from the table’s surface and gestured irritably at her pounding head. Her best friend’s response was instant; pulling an ‘oh shit’ face and mouthing the word ‘sorry’ at her. Rey nodded and closed her eyes to push the worst of the pain away. So long as she could stand and make interview-worthy conversation, Rey would consider that a win. Her eyelids fluttered open as the headache ebbed.

 

“Like, four months ago!” Jess called back as Poe ushered her through into the kitchen.

 

Rey snorted through her nose and rolled her eyes when she heard snippets of Poe and Jess arguing about the practicalities of moving her stuff into Jess’ apartment. Even Rey would admit that moving now would be an absolute nightmare – the thought did occur to her that then she would get away from Ben and his late-night drumming, but she banished it quickly.

 

“Thank Jess for her… _helpful_ suggestions, will you? I’d better get going.” Rey nodded towards the door as she pushed out her chair from the table, it made a horrible scraping sound over the shiny floor tiles.

 

“Sure thing, Rey – good luck!” Finn smiled, disbelievingly shaking his head.

 

 _Yeah, I_ _think I’m going to need all the luck I can get_ , Rey thought. _Especially if this headache doesn’t let-up_.

 

* * *

 

 

The interview didn’t go well.

 

The guy she was meeting had evidently made up his mind not to hire her as soon as Rey walked through the door. He was curt, waspish and talked far too much about how most of the job was far too difficult for anyone who hadn’t been ‘in the field’ recently. Rey had lost any favour she had had with the guy when she asked what exactly was too difficult about filing.

 

As idiotic and self-sabotaging as it was, Rey thought the look of utter horror on his face was worth it. Undoubtedly Finn would disagree later, but Rey was fed up of being patronised by an arsehole in a suit two sizes too small one second longer.

 

Having a headache raging around her head probably didn’t help.

 

She walked back to her flat via a pretzel stand – a treat she wanted despite thinking that she probably didn’t deserve it – and was now almost finished with her chewy, melt-in-the-mouth, knot of fresh-baked heaven. Maybe it wasn’t up to Poe’s standard, but it hit the spot. The last morsel went into her mouth just as Rey tossed the crumpled napkin into her bin.

 

With nothing else to do for the rest of the day, Rey sank into her worn-out sofa and closed her eyes. She pulled her hair out of its three buns in an attempt to expel the remainder of her headache. Stretching out where she sat, Rey was content not to move for several hours. As far as she was concerned, the world could fuck off for the afternoon.

 

 _That_ was when the knocking started.

 

An insistent banging that was all-too familiar clued Rey in to _exactly_ who was at her door. The young woman considered ignoring him; just going about her day and leaving her frustrating neighbour out there to whatever new trouble into which he had gotten himself. That wouldn’t knock her conscience one little bit.

 

There was also a not-so-small voice in Rey’s mind that worried about what he might have told Hux about the night before. The answer to that, of course, was to open the door and find out what Ben had said.

 

Then there was the effect it was having on the residue of her headache – while mostly gone, Ben’s knocking was threatening to bring it back.

 

With a frustrated sigh, Rey stomped back over to her door and wrenched it open. The light of the hallway spilled freely into her apartment, blocked only by Ben’s lanky form. He looked more dishevelled than usual: his hair mostly scraped back into a bun, only a few tendrils rebelling the constraint, grey jeans ripped, and dark red t-shirt crumpled. Rey almost smiled at the sight. Unfortunately for Ben, she really wasn’t in the mood for it.

 

“ _What?_ ” Rey asked sharply.

 

Ben was taken aback by her attitude for all of a second before his pressing issue came back to the fore. “I need your help – something’s gone wrong with one of the amps and none of us can fix it.” There was a note of desperation in his voice, but it barely registered to Rey.

 

She narrowed her eyes at the intruder. After all of the times Rey had complained about his playing and now here he was, asking for her to help him make the racket _louder_. Apparently there wasn’t a limit to the git’s audacity. Not to mention her steadily dulling headache.

 

“Call a real technician then.” Rey went to shut the door in Ben’s stupid face, but stopped when he started talking again.

 

“I don’t trust just any technician with this.” Ben threw his arm out wide – gesturing to the proverbial aforementioned technician – then let it drop with a slap back against his side. “Come on, I need-”

 

“I don’t _care_ what you need,” Rey interrupted, suddenly unable to take it anymore. Once she started, practically shouting at Ben, it was difficult to stop. “ _I_ am having the worst week… probably ever; today alone, I got rejected from about forty different jobs because I don’t have a fucking reference, the one interview I _could_ get pretty much decided they didn’t want me before they had even _met me_ and, to top it all off, I had to go through all of this with a headache that I got while out with _you_ last night.” A rattling, humourless laugh echoed in Rey’s throat. “I complain about your stupid fucking drums _all the time_ and you want me to fix something that will make them _louder_ – are you kidding me? I just- I need some rest, okay? I… please go _away_.”

 

“What gives you the right to decide that your problems are more important than mine?” Ben snapped back, his nostrils flared in an ugly show of anger. Rey decided she definitely _didn’t_ like that look on him.

 

“Because mine are _serious_ , you moronic _child!_ ” She shrieked.

 

They both stood there for a beat; Ben staring at Rey with the same expression he had had when she hit him, Rey wanting nothing more than to be alone. She didn’t even care about what she had just said.

 

Ben turned from the doorway and marched down the hallway in a cloud of thunderous rage as Rey receded back into her room. Without her hand holding it open, the door fell shut of its own accord – the latch satisfactorily clicking into place.

 

Everything was becoming too much – getting fired, potentially losing her apartment, Ben asking her for ludicrous favours – and it had just hit Rey square between the eyes. She just wanted to sit down and take a breath. With a final, exasperated sigh, Rey collapsed onto her sofa. Her head lay back on the floral, faded orange material with her brown hair splayed out in soft waves down to her shoulders. She frowned up at the ceiling as though it was the reason for all her troubles. In reality, Rey just wanted her mind to stop spinning.

 

It was the sound of stomping feet and raised voices that eventually got Rey groaning up from her position of comfort. The thought occurred to her – on the way to her front door – that getting her mind _off_ her life issues with some physical problem that needed solving might actually help. Besides, at least the drumming was an in-time racket – the shouting was just a plain old din.

 

After rummaging around in her cupboard for a bit, Rey managed to push enough excess wires out of the way to reach the more portable of her toolkits. She pulled it down and blew the dust off. The medium-sized red metal tin wasn’t one she used often, but it was one she valued – the initials R.K. etched into the surface of the lid by tiny, unweathered adolescent hands. Rey smiled and took the box outside.

 

Rey got upstairs and gave Ben’s door three sharp raps with her knuckle. It was enough to make everyone inside the flat shut up for a second. Then the hurried murmur of people deciding whether or not to open the door bubbled through to the hallway. The last thing Rey heard clearly was Ben shouting “ _Don’t!_ ”

 

The door creaked open to reveal the scrawny red-haired guy who played guitar: Hux, smelling oddly of sweat and fresh cologne. He gave Rey a wary look and wrinkled his nose like she had just offered him a dead pigeon or something. Rey could honestly say that the feeling was mutual.

 

“So,” he began, his voice smoother than Rey had expected. “This is the scavenger girl you mentioned, huh?”

 

From the corner of her eye, Rey could see Ben glowering in their general direction – whether that was more at herself or Hux, she honestly couldn’t say. His face was half-hidden in the dark of his apartment and the exact expression was distorted by what light he _did_ have. Mostly, this came in the form of artistically dim table lamps. Rey also noted the drawn curtains – no doubt also for the sake of atmosphere.

 

“My name is Rey,” she answered defiantly. “And I heard _you_ needed my help.”

 

In a blatantly false show of amiability, Hux stepped smilingly to one side and waved Rey into the flat. For a moment, she wondered what the hell she had been thinking when she decided to help after all. Rey determinedly walked past Hux without making eye contact – levelling her full attention at Ben.

 

“What changed your mind?” Ben growled when Rey reached him.

 

Rey shrugged, looking around herself as casually as possible, trying with all her might to dispel the feeling of having walked into the lion’s den when she heard the door close. The light from the hallway now extinguished, Rey could only see half of Ben’s face at all. His skin was an unnerving pale amber colour and the eye that was visible was little more than a cavernous black hole in his face.

 

“I got bored.” _Wallowing in my problems_. Rey hoped he got the gist.

 

“Okay,” Ben said simply. “Well, this is the one with the problem.” He pointed down to the amp connected up to Hux’s guitar. If he was still annoyed with her – and Rey was willing to bet that he was – Ben was doing a remarkable job of not showing it. For him, anyway.

 

It was over by the window, where Phasma could be seen in the single slice of natural light in the room puffing smoke into the afternoon air. The smoke and glimmering light gave the blonde woman an ethereal, otherworldly appearance. Despite everything the woman had done to Finn, Rey could see why so many followed Phasma around – she might be a nasty piece of work, but she was incredible too.

 

Rey huffed, kneeling down next to the offending piece of kit and ignoring Phasma as much as possible. “What’s wrong with it?” She flicked open the catch to her toolbox.

 

“It’s died, I told Kylo,” Hux said from somewhere nearer the door. She did her best not to react to the red-head’s use of Ben’s stage-name. “But _he_ seems to think you’re some kind of fucking miracle-worker, so have at it. _I’m_ going to get coffee.”

 

Rey bit-back a retort at Hux’s obvious disdain for her. The one thing Rey liked doing more than sniping at bastards was proving them wrong, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

 

Grabbing the cold, palm-sized torch from her kit, Rey clicked it on and put the tool between her teeth. She turned the amp over to get at the bottom and angled the bright beam of white light directly onto the back. In their own attempts, some member of the band had obviously thought far enough ahead to unscrew the backplate, but hadn’t got any further. When Rey saw that the problem was nothing more than a loose connection she wanted to shove it in Hux’s face and laugh all the way back down the stairs. Instead, she reached over to pull out a wrench and a screwdriver.

 

“Is the power off?” She asked no one in particular.

 

“Of course,” a husky female voice intoned. “You really think Hux would want to risk frying himself for the sake of the band?” Phasma scoffed, taking another drag of her cigarette, releasing the smoke as she spoke. “He’s much too in love with himself for that, dear.”

 

Rey risked looking over towards the blonde to find that Phasma was already loftily regarding her, dragging heavily on the glowing cigarette perched between her fingers. The young woman steeled herself, making sure she didn’t flinch away; the last thing Rey wanted was for Phasma to think she was afraid. Phasma smirked as though she could read Rey’s mind and turned to sigh the billowing cloud of smoke out into the air.

 

Rey rolled her eyes and got back to the task at hand, hoping Phasma would leave her alone. No such luck, it seemed.

 

“It’s a good thing you’re here, really – besides fixing Hux’s amp, I mean – those two were just about doing my head in.”

 

Rey’s eyes flicked up to where Ben and Hux stood by the coffee maker, waiting for it to finish. They were murmuring angrily in hushed tones – though steadily getting louder – and Rey found herself wondering what exactly their argument was about. She went studiously back to the amp, almost having knocked the necessary connection back into place.

 

“There they go again,” Phasma said, almost dreamily. Evidently there was nothing that stopped this woman from listening to the sound of her own voice. “Arguing about that damn _Fiona_ or whatever her name was… Florence? Frida? I can’t remember - some woman.”

 

“What woman?” Rey asked, unable to stop herself – unwilling, really.

 

“Oh, you _are_ listening!” Phasma commented patronisingly. “The woman our dear Kylo was supposed to meet last night – you probably haven’t heard about it.”

 

A part of Rey came close to telling Phasma that she most definitely _did_ know about it. She nearly revealed everything about how she had been the one to sit up drinking with Ben half of the night, how the date had been a no-show and they had made fun of her to make Ben feel better and how… how they had had fun. The memory of that and the threat of it being spoiled by the two people Rey considered to be a hundred times worse than Ben was what stopped her from uttering a sound. They had enjoyed themselves – together, her and Ben. As ludicrous as it sounded to Rey’s own ears, she couldn’t deny the fact, neither did she want to deny it.

 

“If Phasma talks your ear off, just ignore her!” Ben called from across the room, his hands now wrapped around a mug of coffee.

 

Rey found herself staring at his half-form; the part of him lit by dim table lamps, anyway. He looked ghoulish, like something out of a nightmare and yet Rey couldn’t shake the minor epiphany she was experiencing. For all the shit they had gone through in the long months Rey had been living in the building, Ben was edging closer and closer to her definition of a friend as the days passed. It had started with his apology and now went to them having fun together.

 

“Oh, leave it out!” Phasma’s smoke-infected voice shattered Rey’s train of thought. “I was only telling her about you standing up whatsherface.”

 

Ben froze in the middle of the room and Rey swore she saw the shimmer of his eyes dart down to where she sat before flying back to Phasma.

 

“I told you, I was there all night – she was a no-show.” The line sounded rehearsed, like Ben had said it too many times to count. Rey also noticed that he made no mention of her. “So would you both just _drop it?_ ”

 

To cut off Phasma’s ability to resuscitate the subject, he turned and marched over to a dog-eared armchair shoved up in the corner of the room. Snatching up some music that Rey honestly refused to believe he could read in this light, Ben sat moodily down and practically vanished into the dark.

 

Rey finished fixing the amp and screwed the backplate back where it belonged. The job was one of the easiest fixes she had ever done, though Rey refrained from pointing that out – not until she was safely out in the corridor, anyway.

 

Setting the amp back the right-way-up, Rey heard a movement just behind her left shoulder. She realised that the extra light had gone and reasoned that Phasma had finished her cigarette. As if to prove Rey right, Phasma spoke close to the young woman’s ear.

 

“You know, Fiona told me that she _went_ to the bar.”

 

“Oh really?” Rey replied nonchalantly, turning to face Phasma. She involuntarily jolted backwards slightly when she noticed quite how close the smoke-and-ice-scented blonde was.

 

“Mmmm,” she hummed back deeply. “Apparently, our dear Kylo was there at the bar.”

 

Good sense told Rey not to open her mouth. Just to get out of there and not cause any trouble for herself _or_ Ben. Good sense wasn’t usually the one in control of Rey’s mouth, however.

 

“Well why didn’t she just go on the date with him then?” As much as she didn’t want it to be true for Ben’s sake, Rey hoped that the answer was something like Fiona didn’t like the look of him and not the actual truth that Rey feared was coming.

 

“It’s sort of funny, actually.” Phasma grinned wolfishly, revealing a perfectly straight set of white teeth. “She saw him having the time of his life, apparently, with some other woman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh...


	14. Afterparty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we go, a bit of proper fluff for you!
> 
> I would, however, like to say that I do apologise; I am not a lyricist, so the songs bit is... well, you'll see...

It took Rey a couple of weeks to get used to the bartending gig – get into the rhythm of the thing, so to speak. Unlike at Plutt’s scrapyard, where she was left to her own devices, at _Maz’s_ she was constantly dodging around other people, through tables and over messes. It felt, to Rey at least, like there was always something or someone to be avoiding or tripping over. Luckily for her, having worked at Plutt’s – with cables and bits of engine lying around – _did_ mean that she was light on her feet.

 

Maz herself wasn’t too bad either; short, demanding, but patient – in her own way. The first day on the job, Maz had told Rey where each different liquor was kept in the cellar so that she could replenish the bar’s supply. The tiny woman had waited at each one while Rey repeated it back to her before moving on to the next, her layers of necklaces _clinking_ and _clacking_ as she went. The first-time Rey forgot where the Gordon’s was four hours later, Maz was not impressed. Rey had stayed behind that night to clean up and remember where everything was – she hadn’t forgotten since.

 

Now, she had everything under her belt from the extra alcohol supply to the dizzying array of cocktails. Maz was even happy to let Rey watch the bar on her own, rather than with Judy, the chatty Canadian woman who had been Rey’s near-constant companion since her first shift. Rey relished the extra responsibility, and had to admit that the job wasn’t anywhere near as irritating as she had expected it to be.

 

She had come to recognise a handful of regulars – even knew a couple by name. Rey knew who was there for fun or for trouble, she knew the look of someone who had had enough or who was looking for a refill, and Judy had taught her to recognise the signs of a fight before it broke out. Rey had made the sprawling, smoky bar her element, the people in it had become her vibrant, living, environment.

 

The night was only starting to get going; Rey served the irregular trickle of customers as they came in but, on the whole, the majority of Maz’s clientele were probably still sleeping off their hangover from the night before. That suited Rey fine for the time being, just meant that she had more time to check that everything was in its place. Every so often Maz would wander past, bangles and necklaces chiming her arrival, and glance around her establishment before spying an old friend or someone who owed her a favour and beeline over to them before they could get away.

 

Finn had been in earlier for a beer and a catch-up on his way to a date with Poe. Rey had only been on shift for about half an hour when he showed up, ironed shirt and everything. She had teased her friend about how smart he looked until his cheeks burned dark red. Apparently, Poe was treating him to a fancy dinner at a surprise restaurant – Rey made sure to sound appropriately impressed.

 

“So how about you?” Finn asked, taking a swig from his chilled beer. “Things seem better now you have a job.”

 

“They are,” she reassured quickly with a genuine smile. “Now that I don’t have to worry about whether or not I’m going to be kicked out of my apartment at any given moment, I can actually try to enjoy myself.”

 

She didn’t mention how she was running out of spare parts with which to make her robots or tinker with machines. The less Rey was able to indulge in her side projects, the more she felt like some part of her was slipping away. Her old dream of becoming a mechanic one day was steadily starting to fade. Rey knew Finn was only concerned for her well-being, and she was fine, really, it was just a bit of a life adjustment.

 

“What, like go _out_ for once?” Finn chuckled, Rey smiled at the sound.

 

“What are you talking about? I go to the bar all the time!” She gestured at the room around her, grinning; far too pleased with her own pun.

 

Finn practically rolled his eyes into the back of his head. “Ha. Ha. You know what I mean, Rey.”

 

With an impish smile, Rey continued twisting all the bottles beneath the bar around so that she could see their labels. She knew which were which easily enough without looking, but it never hurt to be certain. As Rey turned them, her fingers stuck on the ones whose necks had partially-dried rivulets of sticky alcohol running down them.

 

“Finn, honestly, I’m just happy I still have my apartment.” She gave him a look that she intended to say ‘drop it’ but Rey wasn’t certain it had the desired effect.

 

From the corner of her eye, Rey saw one of the regulars – a tall man with a round face and almond-shaped eyes, always dressed in shorts and a t-shirt – flag her down for his usual G&T. She held up a hand to Finn to tell him to wait a moment as she darted off to get the guy his drink.

 

Rey slid the lime on the rim of the glass and passed it over to him with a generous smile. Rey had learned early-on that he was the kind of person who tipped bigger if he was served with a smile. He pressed a note and some coins into her hand with a smile of his own before turning to find his favourite perch in one of the spacious side-rooms. Just as the man turned the corner, Finn started talking again.

 

“So, speaking of the apartment, how _are_ things in that area?”

 

Turning back to her friend, Rey saw that Finn had almost completely drained his glass. She gave a small wry smile as she walked back to where he sat. “It is as it ever was, I suppose; tiny but liveable.”

 

“And your, uh, neighbour?” He lifted his glass towards the ceiling as though in toast – Rey got his meaning instantly.

 

The young woman pursed her lips in thought. _Ben Solo, hmm_. She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the battered bar-top and leaning her chin in her hands. In her head, Rey flicked through all of her memories of Ben in recent weeks. He had been his usual moody self, but also revealed a different side – a lighter side – and Rey couldn’t deny it anymore.

 

“Rey? Rey? Hellooooo!” Finn was waving his hand in front of Rey’s face – making her jolt backwards when she came back to reality. “Sorry, it’s just… uh, you seemed kinda in a daze there.”

 

“Yeah, just, um, thinking.” Rey blinked a couple of times, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

 

“Well whatever it was, it was nice thoughts, huh? You were smiling.” Even as he said it, Finn smirked like he had just caught Rey doing something embarrassing.

 

“No! It was… ah, never mind-”

 

“You know, you saying ‘never mind’ like that just makes me think I’m right.” He chuckled as Rey levelled a scathing pseudo-glare at him. “Nice thoughts about Ben Solo, huh- _ow!_ ”

 

Rey’s fist shot out and connected lightly with Finn’s shoulder. He acted as though it was a serious hit – albeit with a huge grin on his face. The pair erupted in laughter while Rey was half-scrambling over the bar to grab a hold a Finn’s shirt while her quarry stood teasingly only just out of reach – dodging every time it looked like she was getting too close.

 

The second she heard the tinkling and rattling of beads and bangles knocking together, Rey stopped. She had to _shush_ Finn by pressing one finger to her lips so hard Rey could feel her own teeth while flapping her free hand up and down. Even then, her friend only stopped belly-laughing just as Maz turned the corner.

 

Maz had wandered past, her large glasses exaggerating her small, round eyes. The older woman glanced up at Rey and Finn, a wry smirk creasing the wrinkles that bordered her mouth. She didn’t stop, just scurried on her way around her prized establishment.

 

“So, just to be clear,” Finn started again once Maz was out of sight. “Do we _like_ Ben Solo now? Because I thought he was… what did you call him? Sir Jerkface the Evil One – something like that?” He smiled around the beer bottle as he brought it back to his lips and finished off the dregs. “Not to mention his, uh, bandmates.”

 

“Solo is… he’s an arse, okay? But he’s… he’s not so bad – on his own, I mean; Hux and Phasma make him worse, I think.” Rey bit down hard on her lower lip.

 

Finn nodded, taking a breath to soak in what Rey had just said. Rey really hoped he didn’t think that she was granting anyone a free pardon; just because Ben had once said that he had nothing to do with the Troopers still didn’t make it true. Deep in her gut, Rey really wanted it to be true.

 

 _And he_ was _nice enough around Finn at Halloween…_

 

“All I’m saying, Finn, is… he’s on probation – no, I’m serious, stop laughing!”

 

As Rey went on, Finn was actually holding onto the bar to steady himself as wave after wave of cackling laughter shook his shoulders. She knew the turn of phrase was a bit odd but Rey didn’t think it was _that_ funny. Seeing it was hopeless, she put her hands on her hips and waited for him to stop.

 

“You know what, Peanut?” Finn said, raising his empty bottle towards her. “If you really think this’ll work, then… to probationary periods.”

 

Rey smiled and rolled her eyes. “To probationary periods,” she repeated, _chinking_ his bottle by flicking it with her finger.

 

Finn had left pretty soon after that – not wanting to be late to meet Poe. Rey told him to have fun as he gleefully skipped out the door. She smiled to herself, glad to see him so happy, as she threw his used beer bottle in the recycling with a _smash_.

 

Since then, Rey had been moving steadily from one customer to another, in a dance that sped up as the night grew long. By eight o’clock, there was a decent crowd spread over the tables and barstools around the _Palace_. Rey was dashing up and down the bar for pint and cocktail orders alike – a direct contrast with the way Maz was swanning around, moving from old friend to old friend. One day, Rey would _have_ to ask her how on earth she knew so many people.

 

The congregation of folk wasn’t just for the alcohol or the atmosphere, however; it was almost time for that night’s band to take the shallow half-stage at the far end of the bar. The calendar up in the back room had the names and times of all the performers scrawled on in Maz’s small, spidery handwriting. Pinned next to that was a tattered scrap of paper with all of their names and phone numbers on it. Rey was fairly certain Maz didn’t actually need it as the small woman seemed to have a memory like a steel trap. For that night, the calendar said _First Order_.

 

 _First Order_ had played at the _Palace_ a few times since Rey started to work there. Only once when she was actually on a shift, and she had had her hands full bringing bottles up from the cellar when Judy asked. If Ben, or either of the others, had noticed she was there, then they hadn’t said anything.

 

At points during the night, Rey had actually managed to serve so drinks rather than just fetching them. More than a couple of those drinks went to Troopers – recognisable by the black and white clothes they wore and apparent inability to take their eyes off of the band for longer than a few seconds. There were times when she almost said something, almost told them that her friend had managed to get away – that it was possible. Something in Rey stopped her, however, she couldn’t put her finger on it. Whatever it was, she felt guilty each time she watched one push back through the crowd to the front line.

 

Tonight would be different. Tonight she was on the bar all by herself and would be able to hear, if not see, the band playing. It was easy enough, Rey managed it easily on nights when other bands came in; have one ear for the music, and one ear for the customers. It was simplicity itself.

 

A peel of whoops and cheers rose up from the door – announcing the band’s arrival. As before, the number of enthusiastic fans seemed, to Rey, much smaller than those for other bands Maz brought in the bar. Over the heads of the patrons distributed around tables and hovering by the bar, Rey could see the upper half of the trio.

 

Hux led the way; a blazing shock of red hair smoothly combed on top of an otherwise jet-black ensemble. Phasma was less than a step behind, and almost a head taller because of the platforms Rey could only seeing as the blonde stepped gracefully up onto the stage. Her clothes were all metallic-silver; from her sequin-covered tank top to her muscle-hugging leggings – her shoes might have actually been made of chrome for all Rey knew. Over Phasma’s right arm was what looked like a full piece of armor; from her wrist, all the way up and culminating in a menacing-looking pauldron that spiked out from her shoulder as they curved around to fit her form. Covering her face was the bug-like mask Rey remembered from the photo Poe had shown her; smooth and round over the woman’s crown, with large slanted eye-holes that barely looked human and a plate of metal bending up over the bridge of her nose. The whole thing extended down below Phasma’s chin, with a wave of black embellishing the lower plane of the mask – affording it an eerie grimace. Behind them both, a shadowy tower of black, was Ben.

 

Like Hux, Ben had gone down the all-black route. Unlike the guitarist, however, this applied to every inch of Ben’s skin – for all anyone knew, it could have been anyone under there. Though Rey would know his frame and gait anywhere. He stomped up to the in-house drums, already set up for him at the back of the stage, and settled behind them, a glint of light just catching his oddly-shaped motorcycle helmet. Then there they were; _First Order_ , just as Rey had seen them the very first time she had ever set foot in _Maz’s Palace_.

 

The main lights in the bar dimmed, throwing the band into a kind of glow. As her eyes adjusted, Rey could just about make out the unnatural forms of mechanical objects positioned all over the stage; gears, springs, a few pistons. She hadn’t noticed them before, they just disappeared into the medley of musical equipment. Now, Rey could identify the objects she had helped Ben steal and older, rustier, items she had never seen before. 

 

The room fell silent, the band members were deathly still, even Rey found herself holding her breath. A few tendrils of smoke crooked their wizened way up into the steadily gathering haze that hovered just under the eaves, but otherwise it was as if they had ensorcelled the entire bar into stillness.

 

A slow trickle of high, metallic notes came from Hux’s guitar, picking out a strange and unnerving melody. A handful of bars later and Phasma hit a complementary low chord with both hands – fingers splayed on her keyboard – as Ben began a low, building thunder on his drums. Then sound exploded all around; Hux’s fingers were a blur as Phasma wove her harmonies and discords throughout is fast-paced melody, all while Ben created the backdrop against which they paced themselves.

 

It was only when a girl with short, neon-pink hair tapped her on the shoulder to order a drink that Rey realised she was staring with her mouth open. _Moscow Mule_. Rey quickly set to making the drink as Hux began singing – she could only make out half of the words, something about stars falling and planets burning. To be quite honest, the music wowed her, but the lyrics were a bit of a mystery.

 

For the rest of the evening it was like that; Rey would muddle through the drinks and orders, dance around broken glass and mop up spillages while listening to the loud, furious, demanding music. She wouldn’t say she enjoyed the music, per se, but there certainly was something hypnotic in the beat and enticing in the tune of every new song.

 

Once or twice, over the din of shouting, orders, and drunken laughter, Rey thought she caught a lyric that she almost recognised, like déjà vu, like she knew the reference. Each time she had to force herself to pay attention to the customer in front of her – _a round of pints… Mai Tai… two shots of tequila… white wine_ – rather than listen in on the song. Even if she could have stopped for a moment and concentrated on the band, Rey wasn’t sure she would have done – it felt to her like she was somehow hearing something not meant for her. Songs were all well and good when no one knew the specifics – the crowd could relate it to their own lives and it didn’t matter. Rey could know the truth. That was a different matter.

 

_“How could you leave?”_

_“You’re just a traitor to me.”_

 

Rey ran off more orders – _Vodka Martini… another round of Tequila shots… Bloody Mary_. So the night went on.

 

At last, there was a lull – both in orders and music – when Rey could catch a breath. She leant forward on her arms, picking at a splinter on the counter.

 

The lights in the bar had dimmed somewhat, giving _First Order_ even more gloom to surround them. The lights they had set up weren’t dissimilar from the ones Ben had in his apartment the last time Rey had been up there; dim, giving each member an otherworldly glow rather than actual illumination. Rey thought it was very effective through the veil of smoke that drifted through the air.

 

Suddenly, Ben started drumming, not loudly or with a steady rhythm but it had the effect of making several of their audience snap their heads up. Rey frowned down at the splinter she was attempting to pry free of the bar top, her fingers frozen as the beat emerged. There was something indescribably familiar in its erratic hammering; a rattling snare and booming bass accompanied by the stop-start interruption of the floor drum. Rey couldn’t for the life of her work out where she had heard it before. Of course, it was probably just something he had been playing one of the many times she was trying to get to sleep.

 

Phasma joined in with a few smooth chords, Hux following soon after with a decisive _thrum_ across his strings before making the instrument scream out the melody. Rey blocked all that out, concentrating on the beat of the floor drum. It took less than a couple of bars for Rey to feel her blood freeze in her veins. It was…

 

 _Not unlike a stuttering heartbeat_.

 

The beat Ben was playing just after she had rejected him.

 

Rey’s head snapped up to look at the band just as Hux silenced his guitar and opened his mouth to sing. His face was warped in a sneer with his lips curling as though the very words were distasteful to him. His fingers hovered over the metal strings, waiting to come back in between the lines.

 

_“I’m still kind of waiting – oh, fuck that, I’m praying… for you to come through the door!_

_Because honestly, this isn’t easy for me… but since I fucked it up it doesn’t matter anymooooore!”_

Rey suddenly wanted to do something, be anywhere but somewhere she could hear it. She looked around frantically for someone waiting to order a drink, but everyone at the bar was too busy enjoying the song.

 

_“I guess you wrote me off and that’s okay… most people do that anyway!_

_And yeah, I kind of hate you now… so, go on, just take a fucking bow! Are you proud of how you ripped me uuuup?”_

 

Regardless of her gut desire to get out of there, Rey found herself drawn in more and more to the song. She moved to a spot to one side of the bar where there where less people standing in the way, and looked through at Ben.

 

_“We could have been incredible, but I guess you don’t want that at all… so I’ll just move on, but don’t get me wrong, I just don’t-know-how-to-say-it-right, so I went and wrote this soooong!_

_You’re just like all the rest of them, so fuck all of those ‘could have been’s’… I don’t wanna hear it… and, really, I don’t think I wanna see you again!”_

 

As the music continued, Rey felt as though the ground beneath her feet was swaying. Each lyric was more full of loathing than the one before, and every one detailed how Ben felt after she screamed at him to leave. After she had said she didn’t want him. She wasn’t second-guessing her decision, not at all – he hadn’t given her any reason even to consider a relationship with him might be a good idea – but she did feel conflicted. Evidently Ben was much better at holding in his emotions – at least until he reached his drums – than Rey had given him credit.

 

A thousand and one questions flooded through Rey’s mind at once; none of them staying for the length of time required for her to latch on to them or even have a _hope_ of being able to ask. Forefront of her mind was the idea that Ben had _hated_ her.

 

_“Was it really so inconceivable? Well now it’d take a miracle._

_So, princess, I’ll just have to get better at pretending, because we’re never gonna have a happy ending.”_

 

The music buzzed and died – with Ben lowly reiterating his arrhythmic heartbeat on the floor drum once more, then everything was quiet. Immediately, the applause rose up from the audience like a rushing wave. Rey was still too stunned to move.

 

As the crowd dispersed around tables and the bar, however, she had little choice. Orders came in thick and fast from angles and Rey was starting to wish she had more arms. The work did have the plus side of distracting her mind enough that Rey didn’t dwell on the song. _Her_ song.

 

She almost didn’t notice that the set was over.

 

Steadily, the customers thinned out and Rey was within sight of the finish line – for the moment, at least. Last call was still an hour or so off. The finger-tap on the bar barely registered to Rey – the strangely distorted voice did.

 

“Could I get a bourbon – on the rocks – a sidecar, and…”

 

Rey looked at him the second he started talking and blinked. It was Ben – still in his Kylo Ren stage costume. He had evidently done something to the inside of his motorcycle helmet to make his voice come out metallic and echo-y. Rey frowned at him while he perused the menu high on the wall behind her. Either Ben hadn’t seen her or didn’t care.

 

“You know what, just make it two-” His exasperated, distorted voice was silenced the moment Ben turned towards Rey. _He hadn’t seen me, then_.

 

She could have asked Ben about the song – Rey guessed he was thinking something similar. All of the questions that had been spinning around her head only minutes before had, however, evaporated. At the risk of the situation turning awkward, Rey offered a timorous smile and tried to make light of it.

 

“Your voice sounds really weird through that,” – she pointed at Ben’s helmet then at her own mouth – “thing.”

 

There was a pause in which Rey worried she had said the wrong thing when the distorter clicked back into operation.

 

“I don’t know what you mean, I always sound like this.” He said it so deadpan that Rey very nearly missed the distinctive sound of his smirk as he spoke. She responded with a teasing grin of her own.

 

“Oh really, well-”

 

They were interrupted by a couple of eager fans practically falling over themselves to get Kylo Ren’s autograph. Rey couldn’t resist making fun of him… just a little.

 

“Do you want a straw?” She asked, a puckish shimmer in her hazel eyes.

 

Both the fans and Ben turned to look her up and down like she was mad. A sudden noise like a malfunctioning walkie-talkie burst out of the voice distorter – whether it was a scoff or an embarrassed cough, Rey wasn’t sure, but it was definitely him. Rey smirked at the thought of Ben turning red under the helmet.

 

“That won’t be necessary.”

 

He sounded so formal it was ridiculous. Hiding her giggle, Rey took opportunity to start getting the drinks ready – sidecar first.

 

Ice, cognac, triple sec, a pinch of sugar and lemon juice went into the mixer. Rey screwed it shut and began shaking – watching Ben interact with his fans for a little longer.

 

The duo were soon gone, and Ben was left to lean on the bar waiting for Rey to finish the drinks. She poured the mixed drink into a sugar-rimmed glass that she pulled from under the bar and pushed it in front of Ben. The young woman then reached to the side and pulled out two wide, squat glasses. Into one, she put a handful of ice cubes, the other she left empty.

 

Turning around, Rey pulled down the bourbon and went to pour it in the glasses.

 

“Rey.”

 

Rey instantly took a dislike to the effect his voice distorter had on her name. It sounded more like a build-up of phlegm than a person. Her nose wrinkled a little at the ugly resonance.

 

“What?” She raised an eyebrow, pouring bourbon over the ice cubes.

 

“How did you know I was going to order that?” The slightly amused tone that betrayed his hidden smirk was back.

 

“I guess I can just read your mind.” Rey finished pouring and handed him the three drinks. “Put it on your tab?”

 

“I thought you could read my mind!” Ben teased as he backed away from the bar carrying the three glasses in a very unstable-looking way.

 

Rey rolled her eyes and noted the drinks next to his name on the tab sheet behind the bar. She looked back up to see him making his way back over to the table near the stage where Hux and Phasma were sitting in a gaggle of fans and Troopers alike. Phasma got the bourbon, Hux got the sidecar.

 

Most people stayed until last call – maybe hoping _First Order_ might get up and play another song. Either way, it meant more sales for Maz and more tips for Rey. After that, they gradually filtered out into the frigid night air. The largest evacuation of people came when Phasma left – taking most of the Troopers with her.

 

Soon, there were only a handful of customers floating around – even Maz had retreated into her apartment upstairs – and Rey started getting ready to lock up. While she liked her job well enough, after a night of serving some of the weirdest-named drinks Rey had ever heard, she really liked locking up and going home.

 

Hux was one of the last people to leave, giving the place a cursory sneer before vanishing out into the dark. At some point in the night, Ben must have already left, because he was nowhere in sight. Rey tried not to feel a little disappointed at that.

 

Rey tiredly drifted around the tables, snatching up glasses here and there and depositing them on the bar when she was holding too many. Every so often she was attacked by one of those drawn-out yawns that made her jaw ache and her body long to be at home in bed.

 

It was only as she swept by the table _First Order_ had occupied that she noticed one of the bourbon glasses was still half-full. Frowning, Rey picked it up.

 

“I’ve not finished that,” a metallic voice intoned.

 

Rey snapped her head up to see Ben’s disturbing helmet looming out of the darkness of the bar. She started backwards instinctively before she realised who it was.

 

“Damn it, I thought you were some… _creature_ or something-”

 

Rey hadn’t finished speaking when Ben quickly reached up and pulled off the helmet with a series of clicks. Once visible, his expression was one of mild concern, and Rey blinked in confusion at it.

 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Ben said softly in his natural voice.

 

“You didn’t,” Rey smiled. “Just made me jump.”

 

Ben came over and took the glass from her, downing it in one. Rey gathered up the others clinking into her arms and took them all back over to the bar. Ben followed her with his used glass, depositing it on the wooden counter just as Rey ducked under to get to the other side.

 

“Rey,” Ben said after a moment.

 

“Yeah?”

 

He took a deep breath, looking down at the bar counter. “The song I… I just want you to know that it’s not-”

 

“Water under the bridge.” Rey shook her head, surprising herself with how easily the words flew out of her mouth. Ben immediately looked back up at her. “You were hurting, I get it.”

 

“Yeah, I was.”

 

“Then that’s all there is to it,” Rey shrugged. She reached out for Ben’s glass, then stopped and looked at him for a moment before making up her mind about something. “In the spirit of getting things out in the open, I want to say that I’m sorry for the way I act sometimes it’s… I don’t mean-”

 

“Hey, Rey?”

 

“Yeah?” She looked up at him, teeth biting so hard into her lower lip that it hurt.

 

“Water under the bridge,” Ben said with a smile that Rey couldn’t help but return.

 

She took Ben’s empty glass and, along with the others, slipped it into the dishwasher crate at her feet. Though Rey couldn’t see him, she assumed Ben was still there as she didn’t think the door had opened. With the _clinks_ and _chimes_ coming from the glasses, however, there was a fair chance she would have missed the sound.

 

Heaving the crate through into the kitchen that led off the back room, Rey loaded it into the industrial-sized dishwasher. Four more of those crates later and she was ready to set the thing running. When Rey re-emerged from the back room, she was surprised to see Ben still there.

 

“Don’t you have a home to get to?” She asked, grabbing the keys off her peg by the calendar.

 

“Figured we could share a cab.”

 

“You didn’t bike here?”

 

Ben shook his head. “I walk, usually.”

 

“Me too.” _Maz’s_ wasn’t too far, after all. Rey pulled on her taupe jacket, not the thickest item of clothing she owned, but it kept the wind off for the twenty minutes back to her building. “And I will be walking _back_.”

 

“It’s raining,” he supplied as explanation. “Badly.”

 

Rey scoffed and moved past Ben. _Who does he think he’s talking to, the wicked witch of the west?_ She had walked out in rain before – it couldn’t be that bad.

 

The front door opened onto a torrential downpour of virtually biblical proportions. Rey soon shut it and looked at Ben.

 

“It’s raining.”

 

* * *

 

 

By the time their cab made it to the front door, the rain actually seemed to have increased if that was possible. Rey knew at one glance that she would be reduced to even more of a shivering wreck than she already was; her thin jacket was in no way waterproof and had already soaked through.

 

She heard a rustling beside her and turned to see Ben shrugging out of his leather jacket.

 

“Put that back on, or you’ll freeze!” Rey chastised.

 

“ _You_ put it on – I’ll be fine.” Even as he spoke, Ben was moving to slip the jacket around Rey’s shoulders. He was then protected by nothing more than a long-sleeved shirt and his leather gloves.

 

Rey wriggled away from him into the cold metal of the car door and pushed the jacket back towards his chest – trying to ignore the inviting residual warmth left on the clothing from being on Ben’s body. As cold as she was, Rey didn’t think it was fair for him to suffer for her lack of forethought.

 

“ _Rey_.” Ben’s voice had a threatening edge to it. She recognised the tone as similar to one Finn used; it was the no-argument-accepted tone.

 

With an exasperated sigh, Rey held out her hand. “ _Fine_ , give it here.”

 

“Don’t be grateful or anything,” Ben smirked, handing her the jacket.

 

“Thank you _very much_ , Mr Solo,” Rey replied as pseudo-patronisingly as she could, slipping her arms through the sleeves and relishing the heat tingling across her skin. It smelled of his aftershave; of something earthy and warm. “Is that better?”

 

“Mr Solo, really?”

 

“Can’t you just accept the _gratitude?_ ” Rey grinned, rooting around in her pocket for her money.

 

They hurriedly split the fare and dived out into the rain. It was like someone was aiming a freezing hose at her head. Rey felt like she was half-walking half-swimming to the front door of their building; it was ridiculous. The run to the front door probably lasted less than a few seconds, but it felt like much longer as they waded through downpour and puddle alike.

 

The pair were so cold, they said nothing all the way up to Rey’s floor; just stood side-by-side against the far wall of the lift, shivering. Rey was glad for the jacket, or else she might have wound up looking like the wicked witch. Though the rain had washed most of the warmth away, the jacket held on to its last drop for dear life.

 

Ben managed a short hand-wave as Rey disembarked the lift and walked towards her door – wanting to keep all of his limbs as close to his body as possible for additional warmth. Rey nodded back, a yawn soon overtaking her.

 

The lift doors closed and she trudged through to her apartment. Inside was hardly warmer than outside, but Rey would take what she could get. Now within sights of her bed, Rey had to summon all of her emergency energy supplies to peel off her wet clothes – throwing or draping them all over her room – and pull on something for bed.

 

Rey would have sworn in that moment that she had never experienced anything as satisfying and comfortable as her rickety bed. The cool bedsheets warmed soon enough when she moved her legs quickly back and forth as though she was running. Once up to temperature, Rey was able to settle down and pull the quilt snugly up to her chin with a pleased _hmm_.

 

It only occurred to Rey as sleep started pulling her under that Ben’s jacket was still draped over the top corner of her open bedroom door.

 


	15. Very, Very Frightening

Rey stretched one arm up lazily into the air, savouring the feeling of unfolding her aching limb just long enough until the chill in the air made her skin feel like she had just plunged her arm into icy waters. Wriggling back beneath the covers, Rey almost purred in contentment. One of the best aspects of her job at _Maz’s_ was that she didn’t have to do anything before noon.

 

She curled up tightly under the covers, eyes closed more often than they were open. Of the few glimpses Rey got of her room, she could see that a greyish darkness blanketed over everything and the clothes from last night were still strewn about the place. They were probably still a bit damp, too, given that ‘last night’ was actually somewhere around two in the morning. Ben’s jacket hung askew on Rey’s door.

 

At the realisation, Rey’s eyes snapped open. She had to check, make sure her still-drowsy mind hadn’t just invented the idea that she was holding Ben’s jacket hostage. The more she woke up, the more she could hear the rain still hammering outside, too.

 

Not wanting to get cold unnecessarily, Rey only angled her head down a bit so that her chin was pressing against her chest. From there, the room around her looked as though it was cradled in her quilt; the crumpled pale blue sheets creating a cushiony sea at the bottom of her vision. Nonetheless, Rey could see the black leather jacket hanging off the uppermost corner of her bedroom door – the sharp angle of the wood hooking the garment up by the shoulder, making it look as though the door was in the process of putting on the jacket itself.

 

Rey groaned; having the jacket meant that either she would have to go up to Ben or he would come down to her. Either option involved leaving the warmth of her bed. Her hand shot out from under the covers, snatching her phone and turning it on to see the time – almost quarter to… no, that couldn’t be right… quarter to _four_. She had only gone to bed two hours ago. _Less_ than two hours ago.

 

She rolled over and tried to get some more sleep – resolving to deal with the jacket issue later. The endless drumming of rain created the perfect lullaby, allowing Rey to slip dreamily off into a perfect- _BANG!_

 

Rey jolted where she lay, the loud noise still rumbling away into the rain; _thunder_. With a sigh, Rey turned onto her back and stared up at the greyed magnolia ceiling. The thunder must have been what woke her up the first time, and would be what kept her awake if she tried to sleep anymore, no doubt. _Perfect_.

 

Nevertheless, Rey lay with her eyes closed, each time just about going to sleep before the _flash-bang_ of lightning and thunder woke her up again. Normally, she loved storms like this one and would be found watching it with a cup of hot chocolate. When she was little, thunderstorms had been a source of both fear and fascination; a reason for hiding under the blankets but also an inability to look away. After a few walks out into the pummelling deluge during her teenage years, Rey had decided that she very much liked storms. The feeling of being utterly lost in something so naturally powerful, of being totally cleansed – she could forget all her worries standing in the heavy-falling rain, arms extended in acceptance.

 

Now, however, Rey just wanted to sleep. She had the earlier shift at _Maz’s_ – starting at one – and had no wish to fall asleep on the bar.

 

For the rest of the night – and a fair proportion of the morning – Rey only dozed. She could never get to that sweet spot of deep sleep that would have actually rejuvenated her, but she figured that a half-sleep plagued with strange dreams of being chased by a thundercloud creature in a black leather jacket was better than nothing at all.

 

When she did finally awake for good, much later than she should have, Rey was very much going through the motions of being a functioning person. She tugged on whatever clothes she could grab – uncaring about her appearance beyond being dressed. By the time she got around to showing her teeth the toothbrush, Rey had gone from basically a zombie to far too awake, her body seeming to speed around on autopilot while her brain struggled to keep pace. The rain had yet to let up at all.

 

Rey was _definitely_ driving to work.

 

Working the bar was much the same; she was doing everything as though she had just woken up from a one-hundred-year nap but her head was completely switched off and unable to focus on anything but actions that could be completed on muscle memory alone. It was lucky, really, that Rey had the early afternoon shift rather than the night-time one – less customers. She was able to take quick breaks here and there, take the weight off her feet. Another blessing; Maz was too busy doing the accounts in the back room to notice that Rey was acting strangely.

 

The afternoon dragged by in hour-long seconds. The rain lessened somewhere around three and got heavier again by half five. The sky had remained the same dull hue of grey all day. When the clock finally struck six and Kole – the later shift – turned up, Rey actually thought she would burst into song. Traditionally, the afternoon and the evening shifts tripped over each other’s toes for the crossover hour then the afternoon went home. Kole, however, was a compassionate guy and saw within seconds that something was up with Rey. After very little negotiation and a lot of _you-know-you-love-me_ ’s, Kole agreed to let Rey sneak out early and cover for her if Maz asked – which _he_ was sure she wouldn’t.

 

As much as she felt she was being some kind of delinquent for skiving off work early, Rey was more than happy to drive back home with the promise of a blanket and hot chocolate and _sleep_. Though the latter seemed to be more than a little unattainable while the storm was still raging.

 

When Rey got back into the sanctuary of her own apartment, she thought she might just stop there, with the door locked behind her, and become a puddle of exhausted goop on the floor. She just about managed to make her way into the kitchen to go on the hunt for cocoa powder. Her hand just reached out for the invitingly bright-red tin when a blinding-white flash filled her apartment, heralding the tumbling roar of thunder that soon reverberated all around her. Rey heard the distant _click_ that silenced every electrical hum in her flat and was plunged into total darkness.

 

Rey let out a frustrated shout. Thunder continued to grumble quietly outside as if giving an excuse.

 

Slamming-shut the cupboard door, she went on the hunt for a torch – not the easiest thing to do in the dark, with the thick clouds completely obliterating any shards of glowing moonlight. Rey knew roughly where it was, however; her sock drawer. The problem was: _where_ in said drawer?

 

Getting back to her room was helped by the intermittent flares of lightning, though relatively easy now that there was less stuff on the floor – having less mechanical parts with which to tinker did have an upside, it would seem. Rey even made it to her drawers without much trouble. She roughly yanked open the requisite one and began fumbling around for the hard, cylindrical metal of her pocket torch. Rey wound up having a fistful of socks in one hand while she searched with the other.

 

Eventually, her fingers closed around the object in question and her thumb quickly found the rubbery button on the end that clicked on the fuzzy beam of pale yellow light. Rey squinted in the sudden brightness as her eyes slowly adjusted.

 

Once she could see clearly, she started gracelessly stuffing socks back into the drawer. Rey only stopped when her gaze caught a flash of bright turquoise, hidden amongst her fistful of socks, that she didn’t remember owning. It was only as she put away the items that definitely _were_ hers that Rey remembered _exactly_ what the garish clothing was. _Ben’s underwear. Oh hell._

 

Rey looked immediately up to the jacket hanging limply over the top of her bedroom door and winced. She needed to give Ben his stuff back which, on the one hand, would be easier now they were… Rey wasn’t a hundred-percent sure what they were at this point, but it wasn’t enemies and it wasn’t quite friends. The flipside, of course, was that she had had the underwear for a few weeks now – it having completely slipped her mind to give them back. Rey did _not_ want Ben thinking she was stalking him, that would definitely throw them back into the ‘enemy’ category.

 

Another dagger of lightning slashed the sky on a wave of static and pounding rain. Light blazed in Rey’s small bedroom. Each one was brighter and larger than the last – jagged forks splitting the dark night sky.

 

With a deep sigh, Rey folded Ben’s underwear into her palm and grabbed the jacket off her door – at least it wasn’t damp anymore. She snatched up her keys and padded upstairs.

 

All the corridors and stairwells were bathed in the dim glow of the bluish emergency back-up lights. Rey wished her landlord had had the foresight to put them in the apartments, even if they made it look as though the whole building was suddenly trapped in an old black and white film. She walked up to Ben’s door, now unfamiliar in the strange lighting, and knocked sharply three times.

 

At first, Rey thought perhaps he wasn’t in, then she heard the scuffling of movement and the door being unlatched. When it opened, Ben stood there calmly, backlit by a dozen candles littered on various surfaces. He frowned perplexedly for a moment before his bottomless eyes alighted on the jacket in Rey’s hand.

 

Rey spoke before he could. “I came to-”

 

“Yeah, of course, my jacket, uh, thanks,” he finished for her, words coming out of his mouth as though they were jumping away and Ben was struggling to get them in order.

 

He took it from Rey, who slyly slipped the underwear into Ben’s hand as his jacket moved from her arm to his. Ben’s eyes widened in confusion until he unfolded the turquoise material and saw what it was. Rey held her breath, surprised at how much she hoped he wouldn’t react badly.

 

In an attempt to get in front of the situation, Rey decided – for better or worse – that she would explain. Her mouth didn’t seem happy to comply.

 

“I just want to say that I did _not_ steal those- well, I mean, technically I did but that wasn’t the intention. I would never steal your underwear. Not that it isn’t nice- I mean I’m sure it is, not that I know – I don’t!” _Why am I still talking!?_ “Because I’ve never worn, um, those- or any of your, um…”

 

Ben was grinning from ear to ear as Rey went on, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat like the thunder outside. Almost the instant Rey stopped talking, he burst out laughing. Feeling her cheeks glow crimson, Rey buried her face in her hands and groaned.

 

“Do you think there is any way I can make this situation worse?” She mumbled between her fingers, only looking up when Ben nudged the toe of her shoe with his socked foot.

 

“It’s okay, Rey, it’s not every day I get a pretty girl standing on my doorstep babbling about my underwear.” Ben wasn’t even trying to hold back the smirk curled across his features.

 

“I loathe you,” Rey said with absolutely no venom whatsoever.

 

“I know,” Ben replied simply, still smiling. He shifted to one side, allowing enough room for someone Rey-sized to get past. “You want to come in? I’ve got hot chocolate.”

 

“You have- really?” She was already edging closer to the doorway.

 

“Of course,” Ben shrugged. “It’s a thunderstorm; thunderstorms call for hot chocolate – the power cut just makes it better.”

 

He moved even further into the flickering shadows of his apartment as it became apparent that Rey was following him in there. As the door fell into its latch, Ben went off to the kitchen to fetch the warm drinks, leaving Rey to look around.

 

Ben’s apartment wasn’t much different from how Rey had last seen it; drums taking up most of the living area that was empty in Rey’s version of the same apartment downstairs. This time, however, there weren’t wires and amps littering the place and the curtains were thrown open; revealing the dark, drenched city lights outside and affording a practically cinema-style viewing area for the brilliant blasts of lightning dancing across the sky.

 

Rey opted to sit in the squishy, distressed leather three-seater that Ben had pushed up against the wall to the kitchen – exactly opposite the larger window. She hesitated a moment before pulling off her boots and tucking her feet underneath her body, watching the storm with childlike captivation. Every flash of light bleached the room in a shock of white light. Rey was loving it.

 

Best of all; there wasn't the uncomfortably prickly feeling of being in a predator's lair that Rey had felt the last time she was this far in Ben's flat. 

 

Ben came back through with two mugs filled to the brim with hot chocolate and bobbing marshmallows. Rey gladly relieved him of one and wrapped her hands around it, humming with pleasure as the warmth ebbed through her skin. The delicious scent of chocolate and cinnamon rose between the marshmallows on a heady cloud of steam. Rey blew gently on it, careful not to let the almost-overfilled mug spill, and took a sip, relishing the heat and rich flavour engulfing her tastebuds.

 

“Mmmm, this is good stuff, thank you.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” Ben smiled, his expression thrown into half-shadow.

 

They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying the chocolate and the lightning show. Rey wasn’t above admitting that she was actually happy to be sitting there with him.

 

“You know,” Ben’s voice broke the quiet. When she turned to look at him, Rey could see he was still facing the window. “I’ve been looking for those pants for _ages_.”

 

The childlike grin on his face when Ben looked back at Rey wasn’t enough to save him from a pillow in the face. The chocolate drink in his hand was. Rey settled for gently nudging his shoulder with hers rather than the wallop she wanted to give him.

 

“I could really go off you,” she muttered into her mug, taking another sip.

 

“I thought you already _loathed_ me?” He answered back glibly.

 

“I do,” Rey acknowledged quietly, smiling out at the thunderstorm. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”

 

There was a beat of quiet again, interrupted only by the _bang-crash_ of more thunder and its accompanying lightning. Rey could practically _feel_ Ben weighing her words as he sipped on his hot chocolate, his eyes carefully trained on the starless night sky. To be fair, she hadn’t intended to say it – the words had slipped out of their own volition. Now that they had, however, Rey found she had no wish to take them back. Whatever Ben’s shortcomings, he wasn't all bad and Rey was steadily coming to see that.

 

“I like you too, oh, but not in _that_ way… not anymore, at least, I got the message the first time – loud and clear.” His words were punctuated by small, awkward laughs. Rey wanted to say something, but had no idea what. In the gap she left, Ben carried on, still not facing her. She could hardly blame him for that. “The song I wrote – the one we played last night – it was what made Hux set me up on that date. He thought I needed to get my mind off _you_ – thought you were a distraction… I... don’t really know why I’m telling you this.”

 

“I’m sorry, I kind of screwed that up, didn’t I?” Rey scoffed, completely unimpressed with herself.

 

“How do you mean?” Ben finally looked back at her.

 

“You didn’t _get_ to go on a date with that girl because you were out with me.” Lightning flashed across the sky and, for a brief moment, Rey could see the softness in Ben’s brown eyes. The thunder rolled along after a moment.

 

“Nah, I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed it much – you know how good my, uh, people skills are,” Ben added wryly.

 

“You don’t know that!” Rey chose to ignore his last statement. “She might have been the girl of your dreams.”

 

“No, no,” Ben chuckled, “don’t start that again – I think we did plenty of guessing about my mystery date at the time.”

 

Rey smiled, swallowing a few gulps of hot chocolate. The cinnamon had mostly gone from the rich flavour but that didn’t bother her too much. Not when there were still the melting, chewy marshmallows.

 

“You didn’t tell Hux the truth, did you?” Rey phrased it as a question, but her tone left no doubt that it was a statement of fact and she knew it. Ben had no room for deniability.

 

The man pursed his lips before letting out a heavy breath. “No, I didn’t. Hux doesn’t need to know everything.” He winked conspiratorially and Rey smiled.

 

She was grateful for it, honestly. Obviously there was an extent to which it was in Ben’s best interest that Hux not know; if Hux had any idea that Rey was the reason Ben hadn’t gone on the date then the wiry red-headed man would probably be on his case about it. As it was, the date had apparently gone wrong without interference from Rey, so Hux couldn’t say Ben was still fixated on her.

 

The lightning cracked through the sky and, each time, the thunder came closer on its heels. Rain splattered against the large window more and louder with every passing moment. Rey had nearly finished her chocolate and was seriously considering batting her eyelashes for another one.

 

“You doing anything for Christmas then?” Ben asked, almost casually. Rey chose not to call him on it.

 

“Not really.” Rey shrugged. “Some of my friends are going to a party but I won't know anyone there.”

 

She didn't mention that the party to which Poe had been invited was being put on by the Organa-Solos. Ben's parents. According to both Poe _and_ Jess, it was _the_ festive extravaganza of the year. A whole weekend full of holiday fun, put on at the hosts' countryside getaway.

 

Traditionally, Poe just took Jess along. This year he was bringing Finn as well and had told Rey that no one would mind if he RSVP'd for four. Apparently the way to get unlimited plus-ones was to make the hostess cupcakes. 

 

Rey was anxious about being a burden on her friends, however - knowing full well that she would stick to one or other of them all night and probably ruin their enjoyment. It did occur to her that Ben might be there, but some offhand comment Poe had once made implied that he didn't get on with his parents. Even if he was there, Rey didn't think they were good enough friends for him to put up with her clinginess at parties full of people she didn't know.

 

“I'm only asking because my parents are having this _thing_ this weekend.” Ben liked his lips and swallowed. Lightning flashed outside, the thunder almost on top of it now. “And I was wondering if you wanted to go? It wouldn't be, like, _with_ me - my mother would have a field day with that one - but I would be there... if you, um, wanted.”

 

“I don't know,” Rey began, not entirely sure how to continue. It seemed as though everyone was trying to get her to go to this one party. She stretched out her arms; partly as a distraction from what she was saying, partly to restrain the tiredness that was steadily creeping back into her bones. “I won't know many people there and I'll probably just bring the party down.”

 

Ben chuckled, “If you can bring down one of my mother's parties, I'll actually be a little impressed.” He looked at Rey for a moment before edging a little closer, Rey didn't mind. “But seriously, though... would you come? It... you'd...” Ben seemed to be struggling with his next words; chewing his lip and taking deep breaths. “You'd make the night more bearable, if you came, my parents, they...”

 

“What about them?” Rey asked, frowning. She had heard nothing but good things about Leia and her roguish - if somewhat absentee - husband.

 

“They're alright, I suppose - probably better if you aren't related to them,” he scoffed. “They're just a bit difficult to be around sometimes - maybe it's just around me - bit competitive, I don't know...” Ben sighed and ran a hand through his hair. An empty smile flickered onto his features. “One time, I killed my father-”

 

Rey’s eyes widened and Ben put up a hand to reassure her, the smile on his face suddenly genuine and a touch teasing. 

 

“-in Dungeons and Dragons, don't worry... he didn't speak to me for a few weeks after, though.”

 

Ben was curled over at this point, his forearms leant on his knees as his hands fiddled with his now-empty mug. Turning it over and over. He looked mostly down at the floor and rarely at Rey. 

 

Rey wasn't very good at support - never knew what to say, that was much more Poe's area. Instead, Rey nudged into Ben again to make him look up at her - and smiled when he did. All she got in return was something akin to a grimace. She figured this couldn't be the easiest of conversations for him.

 

“Hux and Phasma are never there, so I don't really have any friends around for it.” Ben was still intermittently chewing his lip.

 

“Do your parents know much about the band?” Rey stifled a yawn, feeling guilty that her exhaustion should choose now, of all times, to make a comeback. Ben didn't seem to notice.

 

“Yeah. Dad thinks it's stupid - never said it in so many words but he doesn't have to... aaand mom thinks that music is great - just doesn't much like Hux or Phasma... I guess you kind of agree with her, huh?”

 

Rey tried to answer him In as gentle tone as she could, but it was tricky to do that and still be honest. “I've never seen anything to convince me they are pleasant people.”

 

Whether they were Ben's friends or not, Rey couldn't let slide what they had done to Finn and what they were still doing to others. It was, as far as Rey was concerned, unforgiveable.

 

Ben nodded as though Rey had only confirmed a suspicion he already had. 

 

“They are assholes, but they accept me as I am,” Ben shrugged.

 

Rey felt there was something else there, something he wasn't saying, but she didn't press. Their newfound truce - pact, friendship, whatever it was - was too delicate for that.

  
“Okay,” Rey yawned again, “Since you asked so nicely, I'll come to the party.”

 

The combined look of surprise and relief on Ben's face made Rey smile. Maybe she would be a little clingy at the party - but something told her Ben wouldn't mind that.

 

Now she would just have to figure out a way of explaining it to her friends that _didn't_ make it sound like she was just going because Ben would be there. Rey figured that was a problem for tomorrow, however. For the time being, her only concern was having a quiet evening of hot chocolate and thunderstorms. 

 

Rey scooted down on the sofa so that her head leant on the soft back. She didn't fight when Ben took the empty mug away from her, or when he returned with another full one. Her eyelids seemed heavier and heavier each passing moment, but Rey was still able to reach the bottom of the mug with the taste of cinnamon still on her tongue.

 

Between her lengthy yawns, Rey watched the lightning bolts parry each other in the pouring rain. Sometimes Ben would comment on one or another and Rey would mumble or nod her response. Concentrating on staying awake was getting harder.

 

The next thing Rey remembered, she felt as though she was being rocked. Certainly, she was curled against something warm and earthy smelling, soft material bunched between her fingers, with both her head and legs supported as the world moved around her. Rey closed her eyes and snuggled into the heat pressed against her body.

 

* * *

 

 

When Rey awoke the next morning, she felt thoroughly refreshed. The rain had stopped sometime in the night and sunlight now filtered gently through her thin cotton curtains. 

 

The only point of curiosity was why her keys were on her bedside table rather than in the hall.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, now I had better start getting your Christmas present ready, huh? (Yes, get excited)
> 
> EDIT: I may even give hints on my tumblr - http://rubypirate.tumblr.com - about the Christmas present!!


	16. Mistletoe and Holly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone! Here is your present, from me to you with love x

Poe and Jess weren’t kidding when they said it was the festive event of the year.

 

When he pulled up outside the merrily-decorated house, Rey couldn’t believe her eyes – the size of the place alone was enough to make the young woman ogle the view. Judging from his expression and how he was practically pressing himself up against the windscreen, Finn wasn’t much different. Only Poe and Jess remained unaffected; each shooting wry smiles at their two wowed friends.

 

The grey-gravel drive shot away from the main road at almost a right angle and culminated in a wide oval that ran along the front of the Organa-Solo’s house. In the middle of this elliptical section was a fir tree covered head to toe in shimmering tinsel, flickering lights, and brightly-coloured baubles – standing at well over ten feet tall. It effectively obliterated a large proportion of the front façade to the house, delaying the full effect of the dancing lights affixed there until the visitor rounded the curve. Next to the tree was one of several three-dimensional reindeer lights. They were dotted around the side of the curling drive to give the impression of being watched by magical, illuminated deer. The one by the tree was the only one with its nose down to the ground.

 

Rounding the bend of the ellipsis, Rey and her friends were presented with a wild array of festive lights chasing each other up, down, and sideways across the front of the house. Despite there being so many, and they all being so different, the lights did seem to form a coherent whole. On either side of the canopied porch were a large snowman and Santa Claus, tipping a top hat and waving a candy cane respectively. Beside them were a series of illuminated holly leaves, eventually giving way into flashing stars and glowing snowflakes the further up the house they went. Each window had bauble-shaped lights constantly shining out from inside. At the very top of the house were a couple of elves, positioned so that they appeared to be sitting on the roof guttering. Above them, balanced on the apex of the roof itself, was a sleigh complete with reindeer and Santa Claus. Strings of softly twinkling lights had been painstakingly wrapped around every vertical pipe in sight – even the columns supporting the porch canopy had not escaped. On the door was a wreath the size of a life ring, all covered in baubles, ribbons, and holly.

 

Poe drove around and parked his car in the next available space on the ellipsis, leaving just enough room for someone to make an exit if need be. Rey was amazed that so many cars could fit there and there still be cars crunching steadily up the drive.

 

“Alright,” Poe said cheerily as he cut the engine. “This is our stop – everybody out.”

 

The four friends spilled out into the chilly night air, all shivering as they adjusted from the toasty warmth of Poe’s car to the bitter cold. Floating around on the wind, Rey could hear laughter, loud chatter, and louder holiday music pouring forth from the open front door where a honey-hued light beckoned all the guests inside. The hostess herself, Leia Organa, stood outside wrapped in a thick, black woollen coat, greeting each of her guests individually with a smile that outshone her house lights.

 

In a panic, Rey turned suddenly and almost fell over as she bumped into Poe, suitably clad as he was in a bright red sweater saying ‘the elf made me do it’ in sparkly writing. It even had little jingling bells on it.

 

“Woah, woah, we are going _that_ way.” He pointed back over Rey’s shoulder and attempted to push her back to face the right way.

 

“We need to- _I_ need to go back – get a better present, this is _terrible!_ ” She lifted up the small potted poinsettia she had been cradling in her lap for the past hour and a half.

 

It was customary at the Organa-Solo seasonal party for each guest to bring something – whether it was a decoration or something edible was up to them, but it had to be something festive. It was, according to local legend, how they had ended up with so many lights on their house. Of course, presents for individual friends were also shared about, but a so-called ‘house gift’ was tradition.

 

Poe had brought his customary box full of home-baked cookies, elaborately decorated in white, silver, and gold frosting; each one in the shape of a snowflake, a star, or a tree. Finn had a sticky toffee cake in a plastic box under his arm – and had yet to tell Poe it was shop-bought. Jess, apparently, got away without bringing anything every year because no one could make eggnog quite like she could. Rey felt that her poinsettia was utterly pathetic next to all that.

 

“It’s _fine_ , honestly, Leia will love it!” Poe gave Rey a reassuring pat on the shoulder, though it did little towards its intended goal.

 

“Okay.” Rey still wasn’t convinced, still half-expecting Leia to throw her out on the spot. “If you’re sure.”

 

“Positive.”

 

Rey nodded, pulling her waterproof coat as tightly around her body as she could with one hand. The dress Finn and Jess had insisted she wear was nice, but not tremendously warm. Thankfully, party clothes were only a requirement in the evening, when there was no great need to be outside. Rey could live with that. She went around to the back to take her suitcase out of Poe’s car and follow suit of all the other guests by trundling it up to the house.

 

As she waited for her friends to get ready – mostly for Finn to navigate how to manoeuvre a suitcase _and_ hold onto the toffee cake – Rey turned back to the spectacular house. It never occurred to her even once that this was the sort of place that Ben might call home, Rey had assumed, though she didn’t know _why_ exactly, that Ben’s background was less luxurious. Something like a terraced house in the city, crammed between the butcher’s and the grocer’s, not a demi-mansion. It was no wonder his parents were able to invite their friends over for a whole weekend; even with the number of cars parked outside, Rey didn’t think there were enough people to fill the place.

 

The four of them got less than a few steps towards the house when Leia caught sight of Poe. She grinned from ear to ear and opened her arms out wide in greeting. Poe left the group and jogged up to her, throwing his arms around her shoulders – leaving Jess to haul along his abandoned luggage.

 

“Poe! It’s so good to see you!” Leia’s voice was not unlike Maz’s, to Rey’s mind; the slight raspiness of age doing little to dispel the evident strength of character. “And Jess, sweetheart, how are you?”

 

Jess gladly filled Poe’s spot in giving Leia a hug, the neon blue tinsel around each of her wrists rustling with every movement. “Fine, fine, you know, just keeping this one in line,” she said, smirking and pointing her thumb over her shoulder at Poe.

 

Leia laughed softly and turned to her two new guests. “And _this_ must be Finn, I’ve heard a lot about you, young man.” She winked at Poe, earning a roll of the younger man’s dark eyes.

 

Finn stepped forward and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

 

“Oh, _ma’am!_ I don’t get that one very often!” Leia chortled. Rey could barely notice in the darkness, but she could have sworn that Finn’s cheeks reddened as the elder woman firmly grasped his hand. “But you and I must talk, certainly; to make sure Poe here isn’t just making up stories!”

 

“Leia, when have I _ever-_ ”

 

“Shush, Poe, you do it all the time and you know it.” Leia didn’t even turn to look at him, just waved a hand in his general direction.

 

Jess barely hid her giggle behind her hand and Rey did nothing to supress the snorting-laugh that came out of her own mouth. The noise brought the older woman’s attention towards her final newcomer. Rey shifted on her feet where she stood, suddenly conscious of her posture – Leia seemed so proper, for all her easy affection, and Rey didn’t want to look like something Poe had dragged off the street.

 

“So, this is Rey, then, hm?” Leia strode steadily towards Rey, arms extended forward to reach her faster.

 

When the Leia’s hands wrapped around Rey’s, the younger woman was surprised at just how warm they were. The woman must have been standing out there greeting guests for ages before they came along, yet her hands were like two hot water bottles.

 

Truth be told, Leia was much shorter than Rey had imagined either of the parents of the dark-haired giant that was Ben Solo. The expectation was someone of equal or greater stature, Leia stood an inch or two below Rey, but stood up much straighter than the younger woman ever had. Every wrinkle chiselled into Leia’s face just made her look dignified – she was the furthest thing from a stereotypical old woman. Her twinkling eyes whispered of mischief, and her grey hair was coiled elegantly on her head in a winding plait. Rey had no doubt the clothes beneath her thick winter coat colluded in the effect.

 

“Ben’s not told me much, but what I _have_ heard is good.” The older woman smiled.

 

Rey wondered what exactly Ben had said, but had no time to dwell on it. “Well, then, you have the advantage – I’ve had to rely on Poe for information about you.”

 

As recent as their introduction was, Rey was trying her hand at joking around and it seemed to pay off when Leia tutted, shaking her head at Poe – the impish glint in her dark eyes brighter than ever. If the older woman was at all upset that her son had barely mentioned her, then she showed nothing of it. A small smirk gathered at the corners of Leia’s mouth.

 

“What is this, ‘attack Poe’ night?” He exclaimed, grinning widely and throwing his arms out to the side in an elaborate gesture that Rey assumed originated as a shrug. The cookies in the tin he was holding clattered and rattled around as they were flung about.

 

“He makes it sound like that’s different from any other night,” Jess muttered teasingly.

 

As the little group all laughed together, Rey wondered that she could ever have thought she wouldn’t be alright at this party. Yes, it was populated with strangers, but they were friends of friends, so they couldn’t be _all_ bad. Leia certainly wasn’t.

 

The icy wind blew in another gust of wind, swirling around Rey’s ankles and making the young woman shiver. The movement caught Leia’s attention, and suddenly deep creases lined her brow. Her warm hands moved up to Rey’s elbows, pulling her closer and making her realise that Leia was essentially a human-shaped heater.

 

“Oh, but you’re cold, you should go inside and enjoy the party, I won’t be long – just a few stragglers left now.” She patted Rey’s arm and nodded in the direction of the house. “Besides, if that lot don’t get Jess’ eggnog soon, there will be an uprising!”

 

Rey smiled and allowed herself to be pushed towards the promised warmth and out of the cold. It was only as she took the first few steps in that direction, that she remembered the poinsettia.

 

“Leia!” Rey called back as she sped back to her hostess. “I forgot to give you this.”

 

She held out the small plant, blooming brilliant red. It still felt like a paltry gift, but then, Rey had never been very good at presents for people she didn’t know. Regardless of Rey’s misgivings, Leia reached out to touch one of the leaves, a tender smile on her face.

 

“It’s lovely, Rey, best to take it inside – someone will be handling the gifts and all that – Poe and Jess can show you where.”

 

With that, Leia turned back to the drive just as her two latest guests were practically blown up the driveway on the wind. Rey jogged back to her friends – who were now at the door – tugging along her suitcase.

 

The interior of the house, if at all possible, was even more splendid than the outside. Deep red and forest green tinsel sparkled in every corner, candles flickered on all available surfaces, a glittering menorah was the crown jewel of the wide hall table, mistletoe adorned nearly every doorway and any potted plant over three feet tall had been treated similarly to the gargantuan fir outside. Rey had yet to see the main tree – Jess had assured her there would be one and it was always like something out of _The Nutcracker_.

 

From the front hall where they stood, Rey could see guests jostling around each other in the two rooms that led off into the rest of the house – old friends and new acquaintances alike laughing and chatting together. It was like the largest family gathering ever. Music poured out from everywhere and mingled with the sounds of merriment and revelry.

 

Poe, Jess, Rey, and Finn all shrugged out of the coats and jackets – hanging them away in the hall cupboard that had to be at least the size of Rey’s entire kitchen. They re-emerged as an odd, eclectic portrayal of festive-wear: Poe was in his red jumper still and had since pulled on a light-up Santa hat; Finn had gone down the embroidered-waistcoat route, a pattern of green holly leaves and silver mistletoe winding their way across a purple background, with the sleeves of the smart, black shirt he wore underneath rolled up to his elbows; Jess, now skipping off to make eggnog, had a large, off-white festive jumper on, little snowmen dancing around the edges; and Rey was wearing a dark green dress that shimmered gold as she moved. It had a wide-open neck to show off her small black choker and flared out in soft folds around her legs, finishing just at her knees. The dress had no sleeves which, while a curse outside, was a blessing as the heat of the house really sank into Rey’s skin. It was a wonder to her that Jess and Poe could stand to be in jumpers, quite honestly.

 

“Threepio, there you are!” The sound of Poe’s jovial call made Rey turn on the spot to see what was quite possibly the biggest spectacle yet.

 

Standing in front of Poe was an impeccably-manicured man in a glittering gold suit, using a sprig of holly for a buttonhole. His hair was smoothed back in shiny, honey-yellow waves, flicking up slightly at the back, and his moustache curled into an unfaultable handlebar over his upper lip. If Rey didn’t know any better, she would say that the man had just wandered out of an Oscar Wilde novel.

 

The man – Threepio, Poe had called him – smiled affably and nodded ceremoniously at Poe.

 

“Master Dameron,” he intoned in a posh, perfectly enunciated accent. “What a pleasure it is to see you again! I hope you are keeping well?”

 

“Just fine, thanks – I don’t believe you’ve met my boyfriend, Finn?” Poe put a hand behind Finn’s shoulders and steered him towards the gilded man. Rey took a few more amazed steps closer.

 

“Well I am charmed to make your acquaintance!” He extended a hand towards Finn.

 

The closer she got, the more Rey could see the small, uneven line of Threepio’s pewter-grey roots showing near his scalp. She could also see that the man had not a single one of those hairs out of place. Rey was still more amazed that someone would turn up to a party dressed as though they had tried to turn themselves to gold beforehand.

 

“Oh, and who is _this_ enchanting creature?” Threepio turned and looked directly at Rey, though it took the young woman a second to realise he was, in fact, referring to her.

 

“I’m Rey,” she said suddenly, thrusting out her free hand towards Threepio.

 

“Charmed, my name is Cyril Oswald.” Taking her hand, the man offered Rey another one of those smiles – exactly the same as the others she had seen. Rey was starting to wonder if he practiced in front of the mirror. “But most people call me Threepio.”

 

“Why do they call you that?” Rey frowned as she released his hand. The nickname seemed utterly bizarre to her.

 

“Oh, well, it is to do with my _full_ name, you see – Cyril Percival Philip Pennington Oswald. Someone once saw the initials; C.P.P.P.O., or C. Three P’s. O. _That_ , in course, got shortened to Threepio – hence the nickname.” His explanation bore all the hallmarks of a story Threepio had had to tell far too many times, but he did so with his customary joviality. At least the odd moniker now made sense.

 

Threepio’s pale-amber eyes lit up when he finally registered the plant Rey was clutching. “How lovely, is it for the house?”

 

“Yes, I was told someone would be-”

 

“Aha! That someone would be me!” He interrupted with a little flourishing flick of his wrist. “Allow me to relieve you of your burden, so that you may enjoy the festivities!”

 

Rey hesitated only a moment before handing the poinsettia over to the gilded man. She was starting to believe that he wasn’t so much trying to turn himself into a golden statue as actually _become_ the spirit of the holiday. Rey found it endearing.

 

“Where do you want us to put luggage, or is that outside of your purview?” Poe asked, eyebrows raised.

 

“Artoo is handling it,” Threepio sighed exasperatedly. “He memorised the whole allocations map this morning and has been ferrying things up and down stairs all afternoon!”

 

“Who is Artoo?” Rey whispered to Finn – her friend only shrugged in response.

 

“He is one of Leia’s oldest friends – like Threepio,” Poe explained quietly once Threepio was out of earshot, putting the poinsettia down. “Only they don’t get on so well.”

 

Having two people who didn’t like each other much both dealing with similar aspects of a party did _not_ sound like a good idea to Rey.

 

“What’s ‘Artoo’ short for?” Finn queried – echoing the exact question that was pinging around in Rey’s head.

 

Poe only shrugged. “No one knows – he keeps changing the story. One moment it’s short for Arthur, the next it’s a nickname his older siblings gave him for always being the ‘are-to’ side of an ‘are-not-are-to’ argument. Once, I even heard him telling some girls that it was because both he and his older brother have names that start with an ‘R’ – making him ‘R-two’ but honestly, I have no idea.”

 

Threepio marched back over and their hushed chatter was silenced. The gold-clad man helped the trio move their – and Jess’ – suitcases over by the staircase, where they were assured the mysterious Artoo would soon be picking them up.

 

Once Poe and Finn had also given Threepio their house gifts, the trio wandered off into the room to the left of the hall. In there, guests had huddled chairs in clusters here and there – making a direct crossing of the room utterly impossible. Every so often, Poe’s eyes would light up as he saw yet another old friend he hadn’t seen since last year. Greetings were shouted over the merry din as Poe continued to steer their group towards the long table at the far end of the room – the one with the swollen punch bowl at the end.

 

Rey scanned the crowd for Ben, her gaze hopping from one dark haired man to another – _how do these people know so many… people!?_ The floor really was packed and Rey was having difficulty telling one person from another. Not helped by the fact that none of them were sitting still, all moving from one cluster to the next without warning. She followed her friends to the punch table still glancing around and starting to think that Ben wasn’t there after all.

 

“If you’re looking for who I _think_ you’re looking for, he’s in his room,” Jess said, reappearing as she backed slowly towards the table with an armful of eggnog in a bowl. A much bigger one than that containing punch.

 

Rey frowned at her. “And what makes you think I’m looking for any-”

 

“It’s up the stairs, last one at the end of the corridor on the left.” Jess carefully set the bowl down, its creamy liquid sloshing from side to side. Evidently, she wasn’t paying attention to Rey’s protestations. “And you best hurry, dinner call will be soon, if the mad rush in the kitchen is anything to go by.”

 

As Jess stood up, Rey could see a small, shimmering streak of eggnog on her sleeve. Poe got to it before she could say anything, however, pulling out Jess’ jumper and swiping a finger across the mark – popping said finger in his mouth before Jess could protest. Finn was already sneaking up behind his boyfriend to score a cupful of nog.

 

“And the reason I think you’re looking is because you are systematically staring at every guy in the room.” Jess folded her arms and cocked her hip – her gaze not wavering from Rey’s face.

 

“I am _not_ staring at every guy,” Rey retorted, rolling her eyes.

 

“No, no, Rey’s right,” Poe admitted, having poured himself some eggnog. “It’s only the dark-haired guys she’s staring at.”

 

“Too true,” Finn chimed in, knocking his plastic cup against Poe’s.

 

The three of them stood there, their expressions variations of wry and teasing smirks. Rey wanted to get hold of the eggnog bowl and tip it up over her friends’ heads, just to wipe those looks off their faces. She didn’t want to get any mess on Leia’s carpet, however, so let them be.

 

“Jess? You done that nog yet?” A gruff voice called out from the babbling crowd of guests.

 

Rey looked towards the source of the voice and saw a grey-haired man with a long, rectangular face. He wore a leather jacket that looked to be about as old as he was and had a _very_ dishevelled-looking bit of green tinsel looped haphazardly around his neck – one end hanging longer than the other. Honestly, from the looks of him, Rey wouldn’t be surprised if he was more the ‘bah-humbug’ sort of person than the festive sort.

 

“Just about done, Mr Solo!” Jess chirped back cheerfully.

 

That made Rey stop in her tracks. She stared at the man she now recognised as Ben’s father.

 

“I thought I’d told you kids to _stop_ calling me that – my name is _Han_. Do you got that? _Han!_ ”

 

Han gently but firmly pushed his way through to get to the bowl of eggnog – somehow already having a cup about twice the size of everyone else’s. Rey figured that Jess would already be trying to find a way to get a hold of one herself. As Han filled his cup, smiling as it filled – needing at least three ladle-fuls to get anywhere close to the brim – Rey’s friends filed in around him, allowing Rey the opportunity to slip away.

 

As curious as she was about the father of the man who was steadily becoming her newest friend, Rey wanted to find Ben more. The final straw that broke her resolve not to come to the party was, after all, to make it a little more bearable for him.

 

Edging her way back through the crowd, Rey found her way to the main hallway. Threepio had gone off somewhere – in fact, there was no one anywhere in sight. Rey tiptoed up the abandoned stairs and across the landing to the left.

 

The corridor was lined on the left side with doors and on the right with the railing stopping anyone from stumbling off the landing and right onto the hall table. Having forgotten which door Jess said was Ben’s Rey slowly crept along the hallway, trying the doors as she went.

 

The first one that opened was full of boxes and unidentifiable objects wrapped in parcel tape. The next two had guests’ suitcases at the foot of each bed – Rey recognised Poe and Finn’s stuff. The penultimate room to the one at the end of the corridor had her own things neatly stacked on the floor at the base of her allocated bed. Each room was decorated like the rest of the house; tinsel draped over every framed picture and a small version of the large tree outside balancing on the side table. Rey made sure to remember which door was hers, certain that Jess, Poe, and Finn would keep her up late enough to be too tired to think about it later.

 

Pulling the door to her own room shut, Rey knocked on the final door and pushed it open. The room inside was almost pitch-black, only one light glowing from somewhere off to the left.

 

“Hello? Solo, you in here?” She poked her head around the corner and, spying a figure silhouetted against the dim light, took a step inside.

 

“Rey? Is that you?” Ben’s voice was gravelly, like he hadn’t spoken in a while. Rey was just glad that he was actually there.

 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Rey shut the door behind her just as a sudden thought occurred to her. “Sorry, you probably came up here to be alone, didn’t you?”

 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “But _you_ can stay, if you want.”

 

Rey walked over to Ben and saw that he was sat by the window overlooking the drive. The cars were now all neatly parked in rows around the curve of the ellipsis – Poe’s was well and truly boxed-in. Leia had gone in and no more guests spilled in from the cold. Ben sat with his head pressed up against the window, his breath fogging up the glass.

 

As she picked her way over to him, Rey chanced a glance around his room. Most of it was invisible in the dark, but there was the odd angle of a drum or a stand that Rey recognised from his flat back in the city. The oddest identifiable object was one she practically stumbled into – a cello. Ben’s head raised off the glass when he heard the scuffle of Rey reaching out to balance the large wooden instrument.

 

“Watch out, that thing is heavy.” A light, barely-noticeable chuckle wormed its way into Ben’s voice. “Wouldn’t want to drop it on your foot.”

 

“Didn’t have you down as the cello-playing type,” Rey said as she settled down opposite Ben, slotting her legs between his folded ones.

 

“Haven’t for a while – mom tried to get me into it as a kid because she plays.” He licked his lips. “I’m glad you came.”

 

“I said I would, didn’t I?” She smiled. “Are you _going_ to go downstairs at all? Or will you be up here _all_ night?”

 

In the half-light, Ben’s eyes took on the mask of unending darkness, but there was a softness there, too. Rey had never noticed it before. It was something she now knew he got from his mother. His other facial features – the cheekbones, the jaw, and that damn smirk to which Rey had become accustomed – were all his tough-love father. As far as Rey could make out, he was dressed about as non-festively as Han, too, minus the tinsel. Then, as if on cue, came that look – the glib quirk of his lips up at the corner.

 

“I’ll go down when there’s food.”

 

Rey stared at him for a moment before snorting her laughter out into the quiet room – Ben didn’t need much encouragement to join in with his own hearty chortle. After a while, their laughter subsided in gasps for breath and they were left staring at each other in amiable silence.

 

Rey coughed. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that, it is a bit crowd-”

 

“BEN!” There was no mistaking Han’s voice as he bellowed up the stairs. “Your mom’s done dinner!”

 

Giggles shook Rey’s shoulders again – Ben’s half-hearted glare doing nothing to stop it. Whether Ben wanted to or not, they would have to go down sooner or later.

 

“Well,” Rey choked out, still smiling. “At least there’s food.”

 

“I loathe you,” Ben said mildly, pushing himself up onto his feet. Twisting back, he reached back to offer Rey help standing.

 

“I know,” Rey replied, taking his hand and pulling herself up.

 

They made their way back out onto the landing, back into the light. The rich smell of roast potatoes and slow-cooked lamb was there to envelop them the instant they left the gloom of Ben’s room. Rey was very much aware of how hungry she was all of a sudden, her stomach growling at the mere hint of something to eat.

 

Without turning to see if Ben was following her, Rey skipped downstairs in the direction of the promised food. Judging by the ever-present stomp behind her, however, Rey reckoned that he was right behind her.

 

Since the call to dinner, evidently everyone else at the party had filed into the dining room as the spaces through which Rey and Ben passed with a small smile. – that had so recently been teeming with people – were now entirely empty. Just like Jess’ eggnog bowl, Rey noted on her way past with a small smile.

 

She stopped as soon as she moved on to the next room, suddenly unsure of which way to go. A gentle tap on Rey’s back came from Ben on his way past – leading her off to the right. Rey was getting the distinct impression that the house was a rabbit warren.

 

Ben and Rey still hadn’t come across any other guests when they were halted in their tracks by a raucous cheer just as they stepped from one room to another. There, in front of them, was a gathering of around twenty or so guests – including Jess and Han. Poe and Finn must have already made it through to dinner. The crowd before them now had their alcohol-glazed sights fixed on Ben and Rey, most of them also sporting inane grins – including Jess.

 

They watched the pair expectantly, and Rey felt like she was in one of those dreams where you are standing on a stage naked and have forgotten what play you are meant to be performing. Rey side-eyed Ben to find that he was looking just as bewildered as she felt. It was then that she saw, just brushing the top of Ben’s dark, tousled hair, the shiny green leaves and white berries of a sprig of mistletoe.

 

Rey didn’t know who started it, but she swore to herself that if she ever found out, whoever it was was getting a bucket of cold water over their heads in the morning.

 

“ _Kiss, kiss, kiss,_ ” the low chant rose up from the heart of the group – growing louder with each person who merrily decided to join in. “ _Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss._ ”

 

Rey stared at Ben in dismay – and from the slack-jawed, wide-eyed expression on his face, he felt the same. It wasn’t that the concept of kissing Ben was so terrible, _per se_ , but the thought of being forced to kiss him in front of a chanting crowd was totally horrifying to Rey.

 

As more guests amassed behind them – blocking their way from behind as the first crowd barred the way forward – Rey was sensing that there was no way out of this situation other than to get it over with. She didn’t even know where they had all come from, it was like there was some kind of beacon for when Rey was embarrassed.

 

Hesitantly, Rey took a step nearer to Ben. It took him a second to get the gist that this was actually happening, but then he leant down. They moved closer and closer at what the crowd probably perceived as an agonisingly slow pace. Ben’s face – an expression of mild shock and concern – became larger and larger until she couldn’t see anything but him; his face, his sparkling dark brown eyes.

 

“Rey,” he whispered. “We don’t have to-”

 

“You think we can take a whole crowd of drunk partiers who want a show?” She hissed back, not meaning to sound as harsh as she did. “Better just to get on with it.”

 

Ben nodded and continued encroaching on her personal bubble; Rey did the same to him. When his nose brushed hers, she flinched back a little then pressed forward. Rey could just feel his breath in warm waves over her lips-

 

“Snow!” The high-pitched shriek made Rey and Ben jump apart like they had been shocked with a livewire.

 

The guests on either side of Rey and Ben immediately lost interest in seeing a kissing spectacle as they saw thick white flakes splat into the windows. They bustled and rushed past, all scrambling for the door. Rey was certain she saw Threepio somewhere in the mob, struggling to keep up and complaining at the almighty jostling he was receiving from all angles.

 

Everyone tramped through to the back garden – some not even bothering to grab their coats on the way. The moment the door was open, frosty air blasted back into the house, making all the decorations shiver and clatter in the gust.

 

Unable to withstand the stampede, Rey allowed herself to be swept outside with the others. She lost sight of Ben within moments.

 

As cold as it seemed from inside, it was much worse outside. The night air was like an ice-blanket on Rey’s unprotected skin; she broke out in gooseflesh and, no matter how she wrapped her arms around herself, shivered from head to toe. Rey thought about going back in to get her coat, but then she looked around.

 

People were twirling and dancing in the soft fall of snowflakes, Jess was leading a few people in attempting to make snow angels despite the fact that the snow wasn’t settling, Han and Leia stood together holding hands, and Finn was getting Poe to catch the fluffy flakes on his tongue. Cold she might be, but Rey didn’t want to miss a moment of the magic happening all around her.

 

Out of nowhere, as she was standing there watching the partygoers revel in the snow, Rey felt the roughness of a thick winter coat being pulled over her shoulders. Not one to question minor miracles, Rey happily shrugged it on and curled into the offered warmth. Turning, the young woman saw Ben standing next to her, arms folded, himself wearing his customary leather jacket and a bulky scarf. The falling snow collected in his dark hair and gave him an ethereal look.

 

“And, uh, whose is this?” Rey asked with an impish grin, picking at the coat’s collar.

 

“It’s mine.” Ben’s breath puffed out into the frigid air on clouds of steam as he spoke. “Not that I wear it that often these days.”

 

They stood in amiable silence, arms brushing, watching the chaotic joy unfurling around them. Rey could honestly chalk this up as one of the best holidays ever.

 

Maybe it was the sudden snow, maybe it was the fact that no one was watching them, maybe it was just because it was Christmas, or maybe magic really did exist. Whatever the reason, Rey went up on her tiptoes – hooking her fingers into the crook of Ben’s arm for support – and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, her lips lingering perhaps a fraction of a second longer than necessary.

 

“Happy holidays, Ben,” Rey whispered into his ear before returning to her original position at his side, looking out over the other guests.

 

After a beat, Ben murmured lowly back to her, a smile glowing on his face. “Happy holidays Rey.”


	17. In the Frosty Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff (you seem to like that - can't imagine why ehehe!) and Poe being good at everything (because he is adorable and probably had far too much time on his hands as a kid). Goodness knows after the year (particularly the last week or so) we've had, we could use it!

The party went on through the night and some of the early morning. Once the snow lost its novelty, the guests had skipped back inside for the veritable _feast_ Leia had organised. There was music, mulled wine, and another batch of eggnog – with significantly more rum in it than the first. All in all, as predicted, Rey hadn’t gone to bed until much later than she would have liked.

 

Now, early the next morning, before the sun had reached over the horizon, Rey was padding as softly as she could downstairs, trying to get away from the stale stink of cranberry sauce and wine. She had had a handful of sleeping hours but something had woken her up – some bird that didn’t like her being in the countryside. Unable to roll over and return to the blissful dark of unconsciousness, she had huffily got out of bed, pulled some clothes on, and decided to take a walk outside.

 

The decorations throughout the house were still cheery the morning after, if not quite as magical without shining lights reflecting off them. Rey tiptoed around mess and passed-out guests, chairs that had yet to be put away and presents that been prematurely taken out. She just about remembered the turns required to reach the back door – slipping outside the moment she could.

 

The bitterness of the wind had lost its edge, though the air was still icy-cold. Rey shivered and pulled her coat tight, glad to be wearing a woollen hat, scarf, and gloves this time. She carefully shut the sliding glass door behind her.

 

Her breath fogging up the crisp morning air, Rey turned to the garden itself. In the endless dark of last night, it had been impossible to see further than a few feet. Now, however, as the first rays of morning light greyed the sky, Rey could admire the wide expanse of neatly-kept lawn, the greenhouse off to one side, the rectangular plot of earth next to it that she assumed was a vegetable patch with the weather was more temperate. Down on the other side of the greenhouse was an area cast in shadow full of twisting stalks and stems, a sundial proudly occupying the centre space, with a little cobblestone path leading up to it, the whole thing walled in on three sides by six-foot hedges. To the left, opposite the greenhouse and its patch of earth, the garden sloped away and down towards the high, pointed trees and goodness knew what else. The lawn itself was coated in crystal-like frost; sparkling and twinkling in the dawning light as though the whole thing was made of smoky, iridescent glass. Only one area was devoid of frozen dew – a path of pure green lawn, leading down to the trees, obviously made by someone walking there.

 

That seemed as good a direction as any.

 

Rey followed the pre-made path across the grass, trying not to knock anymore of the glassy dew. Whoever it was who had gone before her had walked around the back of the hedged area and down the slope to what Rey could now see was a wide expanse of water – somewhere between a small lake and a very large pond.

 

Down by the water was Ben _trying_ to skip stones. In truth, every single one dropped into the water with a splash.

 

About two-thirds of the way down the slope, the grass gave way to gravel and pebbles that continued right up to the water’s edge. It was as Rey was crossing this new terrain, pebbles grinding under her feet, that Ben turned around. His expression was one of alarmed surprise, but when he saw who was ineffectively sneaking up on him, a brief smile flashed over his lips.

 

He was dressed practically the same as the night before; leather jacket, thick scarf. The jeans might have been a different shade of black, Rey wasn’t sure. The outermost wisps of his dark hair were seemingly caught alight in the lazy rays of the still-low sun.

 

“You’re up early,” Ben commented, turning back to face the water.

 

“And you’re, what, sleeping in?” Rey reached him just as he leant back and threw the rock in his hand. Like all the others, it splashed beneath the mirror-like pool.

 

Ben snorted in response and went to pick up another stone. Rey stayed where she was; breathing in the fresh air and soaking up the surroundings. As much as she liked the constant _hum_ of life in the city, being out here with nature was a nice break. One that, in all honesty, Rey needed.

 

Ben’s next stone went straight into the water.

 

Rey snorted. “Not doing so well, huh?” She teased.

 

“Thank you very much, your vote of confidence is overwhelming,” Ben muttered sarcastically as he picked up his next stone.

 

After a quick glance around her feet, Rey copied him. She selected a smooth, flat stone and followed Ben to the water. She turned her rock over and over in her hands; feeling the weight of it, imagining the rough texture when all she could feel was the wool of her gloves being pressed against her numbing fingers wherever the pebble rested. Sitting the ridge of the stone in the crook between her thumb and forefinger, Rey leaned backwards with her elbow pointed out. She lined up her target – the surface of the water – with one eye closed and lobbed the stone horizontally, her whole arm moving in a snake-like motion towards the water. Rey felt its weight leave her fingers then watched, transfixed, as it flew through the air and landed with a splash in about the same area as all of Ben’s had done.

 

The moment Rey’s pebble had disappeared beneath the now-rippling surface of the lake, Ben started laughing. It echoed off the rocks and the trees around them; deep and heartfelt. Rey side-eyed him but he wasn’t paying attention – even dropped his own rock.

 

“Oh, is _that_ how it is, then?” She didn’t get any verbal response, Ben just raised his eyebrows – residue chuckles still shaking his shoulders. “Right!”

 

Rey marched up to Ben and grabbed hold of the shoulder of his jacket – easier said than done when he was wearing leather and her gloves were knitted – and his scarf. With a wicked grin on her face, Rey dragged a doubled-over Ben right up to the water and into the shallows.

 

“Rey! Rey, don’t it’s… _shit_ , it’s freezing!” Ben exclaimed between spluttering bouts of laughter. “These shoes aren’t waterproof!”

 

Even Rey was laughing by this point as she pulled him further in the water. Ben, with his large ungloved hands on her shoulders, pulled Rey back; resulting in them spinning and splashing around in the shallows in an odd, uncoordinated dance. Also making it harder for Rey to hold on to Ben. The longer they stayed there, the more the cold of the water sloshed around Rey’s ankles – sending icy tendrils shocking up her calves.

 

“Come, on, it isn’t _my_ fault that you can’t do it!” Ben said as he finally got Rey to stop spinning them.

 

They stood still; both of Rey’s hands now twisted in Ben’s scarf, having completely lost purchase on his shoulder. Great plumes of steam rose out of her mouth with every panted breath that mixed with his in the air between them, slightly obscuring their matching smiles. Then, suddenly, Ben’s expression hardened back to something Rey remembered from before they were friends. A cold, unsettling look Rey did _not_ like.

 

“Actually,” called a familiarly jovial voice from behind them. “You _both_ suck.”

 

Rey twisted around as far as Ben’s hold on her would allow – not wanting to break free of his grip entirely as she knew full-well it was the only thing stopping her from falling over into the freezing waters at her feet. Fun their little splash may have been, but Rey was now very dizzy.

 

The young woman heard the steady crunching of someone walking over the pebbles just as she caught sight of a brown and orange jacket as the grey morning light hit it, topped by dark curly hair being restrained by an orange beanie: Poe. Behind him were another set of footsteps Rey assumed to be Finn.

 

The world had, by this point, stopped swaying like a pitching ship and Rey was able to stand on her own. She pulled away from Ben just as Poe reached the shore and gracefully bent down to scoop up a stone. He looked like a dancer. Rey rolled her eyes but made no move to get between Poe and the water.

 

Rey walked over to Finn instead – the figure behind Poe, as she had correctly assumed. He was wrapped in layer upon layer of jumpers and scarves; obvious from the unusual pudginess of his torso. As Rey approached him, Finn pretended to be disgusted at the dampness splattered up her jeans, chortling as he half-heartedly shoved her away. Rey playfully shoved him right back.

 

Poe and Ben were soon the only ones standing near the lake; Ben with his arms folded tightly across his chest, Poe with a grin like a madman. The shorter of the two men took his stance by the water and looked to the other – a shrug was his only reply. Poe leaned back in the way Rey had earlier, his elbow bent out apparently identically.

 

When he propelled the stone in his hand out across the water, however, it was evident that Poe’s technique was the more practiced; the stone hopped three times across the small lake, almost reaching the halfway point before disappearing into the watery murk.

 

Rey raised her eyebrows, impressed; Ben transferred his weight from foot to foot, gaze fixed on the floor. Only Finn whooped and clapped – Poe gave an ostentatious little bow towards his cheers before turning back to Ben, smirking.

 

Ben regarded him with an unreadable look before shifting on his feet again. “Well, Poe… it takes years to make it go straight in the water – don’t be too disappointed you can’t quite get the hang of it just yet.” Even from this distance, Rey could see the fleeting ghost of a smirk twitch at the corner of Ben’s mouth.

 

Poe’s response was instantaneous – a hearty belly-laugh that seemed to make the very pines around the lake shakes with chortles. Both Finn and Rey joined in, cackling even as they closed the gap between the other two and themselves.

 

As they approached the pond, it occurred to Rey that Ben seemed more on his guard now than she had seen him in weeks; despite the smirk that still threatened to make an appearance his arms remained barred in place over his chest and his shoulders were more than usually stiff. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was the presence of Poe and Finn that had brought on this sudden change in demeanour – what exactly it signified about his feelings toward them, besides a general wariness, Rey was unsure. She was glad, even so, that Ben was trying.

 

“What are you two _doing_ out here?” Rey raised an eyebrow, setting one hand on her hip.

 

“Showing you how it’s done, apparently.” Poe winked. “In all seriousness-”

 

“Seriousness? _You?_ ”

 

Poe didn’t even miss a beat. “Seriousness. We heard you get up and wanted to make sure you were all right – that’s all.”

 

Rey smiled affectionately at them both, warmed by their concern. How she thought she could survive perfectly well without friends before she met them, Rey could not now fathom. Perhaps a past version of herself would have perceived that as a softening of her tough character.

 

“But since we’re here,” Poe continued, since Rey wasn’t replying, “I don’t see the harm in a little fun.” As he spoke, the man picked up another pebble.

 

“Can you teach me how to do it?” Finn asked, snatching up any old rock without a second glance. Poe took it off him and threw it over his shoulder, exchanging it for the more appropriate one he had just selected.

 

“Absolutely!” Poe winked at Ben and Rey. “You guys want some tips or are you good up there in the pro’s league?”

 

“We’re good, Poe,” Rey said, clapping her friend on the back. She was more than ready to take several steps away from the water now, the chill from the dampness on her clothing making everything from her ankles to her calves feel like blocks of ice.

 

Finn and Poe needed no more encouragement to get on with their enthusiastic endeavour to get a pebble at least as far as the middle of the wide stretch of water. Rey crunched her way towards a convenient tree trunk, Ben following in her wake.

 

They sat shoulder to shoulder on the cold, woody top of the squared-off trunk, Rey stretching her legs out in front of her with her toes pointed at the sky. She pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear when the winter wind blew gently at her back. A smile stretched her chapped lips as Finn’s frustrated “ _damn_ ” rang out in harmony with the tell-tale _splash_.

 

“Why _did_ you come out here so early, if I may ask?” Ben queried, nudging Rey’s shoulder with his own.

 

“Needed some air.” Her hand once again reached up to the hair that refused to stay behind her ear. “You?”

 

“Same.” His reply was simple. It wasn’t long, however, before Ben spoke again, his voice evaporating into steam in the frigid morning air. “You’re lucky, you know, to have friends like them.”

 

If Rey didn’t know better, she would have said his tone was wistful.

 

“Is there some reason that Hux and Phasma don’t come to these parties?” Rey wouldn’t, by any means, compare his friends to hers, but it seemed they were the only ones he had.

 

Ben’s shoulders shook sharply when he scoffed. “You really think they’d get on at a thing like this? No, they see these parties as a form of appeasement to my parents and want no part of it.”

 

“That’s a little intense.”

 

“Yeah, it is,” more soft chuckles bubbled quietly out of his throat. “ _They_ are, really, but they’re the only friends I have – or have been, at least… until you.”

 

He said the last two words so softly, they might have been a breath and Rey would have missed them. She looked at Ben to find his velvet-black eyes already boring into her. The wind untucked Rey’s hair once more, and Finn let out a gleeful _whoop_ as he successfully skipped a stone.

 

Rey wasn’t entirely sure how to respond for a moment, her mind spinning far too quickly around the fact that Ben considered her a friend. In the end, she decided to answer him in kind – with nothing but the utmost truth.

 

“I didn’t have anyone until Finn.” Rey bit down hard on her lower lip, suddenly uncertain she wanted to confess all of this – and absolutely positive she was saying it wrong. Every so often, the nervous laughter she was doing her best to supress escaped into the early morning air. “Thought I didn’t _need_ anyone… after Finn, Poe and Jess came along – sort of a package deal, those two.” As she spoke, Rey saw that Ben was bristling. “And that was sort of it and I thought, with _my_ track record, that would always be it – then you came along.”

 

Any harshness Rey felt emanating from Ben before, vanished instantly at her words. His eyes reclaimed their gentleness and he leaned almost imperceptibly closer to Rey. She didn’t mind, the warmth of his shoulder pressed against hers was a more than welcome barrier to the cold trying to envelop Rey’s whole body. She found her eyes drawn to the way the morning turned his flyaway hairs created a sort of semi-halo for his head as more and more of the watery amber sunlight burst through the haze of clouds.

 

Rey, at last, looked away from Ben and back to her other two friends. Finn was getting pretty good at skipping stones by this point – he always had been a fast learner. He and Poe seemed to be racing their stones, each one aiming to get as far across the lake as possible. Poe seemed to be winning most of them.

 

“So, the people who come to these parties are your parents’ friends? Or do you just have a _really_ big family?” Rey didn’t turn to see Ben’s reaction. She was using an old method of hers for avoiding conversation that bordered far too close to meaningful for her comfort; deflection.

 

Ben frowned. “Just friends. The only blood relatives here are me and my parents, though Chewie might as well be related.”

 

“Chewie?” Rey had just about got used to Threepio and Artoo, but some of these peoples’ names really were starting to sound made up; she gave Ben a look that said as much.

 

“My father’s best friend from college – before he dropped out, that is, dad wasn’t really one for academia.” Ben reached up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. It took little more than a second for the wind to blow it back. “He preferred to become a trucker, moving goods around, travelling; just him, Chewie, and the job.”

 

Rey couldn’t help but hear the definite note of longing in Ben’s voice. Thinking about it, Han’s job didn’t sound like at had a great deal of at-home hours.

 

“That’s how he and mom met; he was hauling something for her brother.”

 

“Brother?” The one-word query escaped her lips before Rey had a chance to reign it in – her surprise momentarily overcoming her manners.

 

Ben’s lips drew into a thin line and Rey knew she’d pushed a little too much. His tone was as frosty as the morning air. “Yeah, Luke. Haven’t seen _him_ in a while. Took off about, what? Seven, eight years ago to live in the middle of nowhere and paint. He’s into peace and love or whatever, some crap like that.”

 

Ben curled forward, leaning his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of his face. He wasn’t _specifically_ moving away from Rey, but the motion half-accomplished that effect.

 

“I’m sorry,” Rey said slowly, wincing at her own clumsiness. “I didn’t mean to-”

 

“It’s fine. Really.” It was obviously anything but; Ben’s sharp reply said as much, but Rey decided to hold it there for now. “Just your regular family drama, you know.”

 

Rey was seconds away from telling him no, she actually had no idea what ‘family drama’ was like, not really. Only what made it onto T.V. or how it was sketchily described to her by others. The most time she had ever spent in one foster home as a kid was three and a half months and that was with an older couple who didn’t have any relatives. The inner workings of a family were a real mystery to her.

 

“He was just… following his dream, I guess,” Ben said cynically with a heavy sigh. Rey couldn’t tell at first whether he was being disparaging or secretly envious. “Must be nice to have that much conviction – like you, huh? With your mechanics?”

 

After a heartbeat of staring at Ben’s raised eyebrow Rey pulled together enough awareness to blink – so surprised was she that he remembered what she had said to him. Her end goal of becoming a full-time mechanic. It seemed to have gone out the window when she got fired from Plutt’s without a reference. Rey even had an inkling that he had phoned around most of the scrapyards and garages in the area and told them not to hire her – the man was that spiteful.

 

Since getting her job at the bar the idea of going back to work with machinery had occurred to Rey but it was getting more and more distant – like a call from a person who took one step away each day. Rey wasn’t sure whether it was the possibility of it stepping away from her or if she was now stepping away from the possibility.

 

Rey shook her head. “I’ve worked for Plutt ever since it was legal for me to _have_ a job. I have always figured mechanics to be an unremovable part of me but now…” Rey let out a heavy sigh into the air, watching as the steam wisped away. “I don’t think it’s my dream anymore.”

 

Finn and Poe both cheered – one of them had skipped their stone all the way to the other side of the lake. Neither Ben nor Rey looked.

 

“Well, then I guess you’ll have to find a new dream.” Ben smiled at her like he was the sun itself.

 

Rey thought for a moment, then nodded back at him. “I guess I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most people go for "eat healthy" or "get fit" as New Year's resolutions, but not our Rey.


	18. New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More musical shenanigins - but nothing to do with First Order, for once!

Rey skidded across the floor of _Maz’s_ , radio playing in the background, a chair in each hand. She was setting up for the live music that night – for a band who wanted to perform in the round, of all things. After an eye-roll from Rey, and some slight grumbling since that meant more set-up time than usual to move all the chairs, she got on with it. Most of the tables were soon cleared to the side – creating a semi-circle – then Rey moved on to the other side of the room.

 

Ever since the Christmas party, Rey had been thinking about what she wanted to do, what her goals could be – her new dream. She hadn’t completely dropped her mechanics, of course; still tinkering whenever her time and energy allowed it. Rey’s apartment floor was less of a minefield of gears and wires than it had been when she still worked at Plutt’s – getting hold of the parts was much harder – but all of Rey’s friends had trodden on something at one point or other over the past couple of weeks. Poe was threatening to buy a metal detector before he came over ever again.

 

New ideas were buzzing through Rey’s head, and she was always so excited with each one. There was a point when she was fully convinced that Finn would start refusing to take her calls; the number of times she had changed her mind. Ben had already reached the “whatever you say, Rey” point and it was looking like Rey would become an eternally-directionless wanderer who worked at a bar.

 

About a week after New Year’s, as she stood in her kitchen, staring at her postcard-covered wall and waiting for the kettle to boil, Rey decided that she would go travelling.

 

Her finances, however, were not exactly geared for the idea, so Rey had to pick somewhere not too far away and work a few additional shifts. A few shifts quickly multiplied into Rey practically living at _Maz’s Palace_. The extra hours really were helping to boost the contents of her “travel money” pot though. That was most of the reason why Rey hadn’t complained too much about the set-up for this demanding new band – and besides, she never liked being at odds with her short, shrewd boss. That same boss who was now nowhere to be seen.

 

Just because _someone_ – meaning _Rey_ – had to set up early for the show was, of course, no reason for Maz to hang around. At least as far as the woman herself was concerned, anyway. One wrinkled smile on her ebony face was all the explanation Rey got before the older woman vanished out the door – causing Rey to mutter sarcastically; “You shall _not_ go to the ball Cinder-Rey.” Not that anyone was there to hear her.

 

Rey was left in the dwindling light of the late afternoon to put together the required stage space on her own.

 

The dismal situation had soon been immediately improved when Rey had discovered the radio sitting in the break-room. After a bit of fiddling, the young woman had managed to have the thing balanced on the bar countertop, tuned into a station that wasn’t so bad. They played mostly popular stuff, so even the tracks Rey didn’t like, she knew all the words and was usually halfway through the first chorus before remembering that she wasn’t a fan. For the time being, however, _Shout Out to My Ex_ was playing, and, while she had technically never had a boyfriend so couldn’t fully relate, Rey liked the beat and the idea of sticking it to some gutless ex.

 

Her hips jolted from side to side on the beat and her lips silently formed the words whenever a line she knew came up. Dancing wasn’t easy when shifting unwieldy tables around the room. Rey made a mental note to ask Maz if there was a possibility they could switch from square to round – preferably with round bases as well. Anything rather than the sharp corners of the crossed planks that threatened to spear Rey’s toes every time the table slipped out of her grip.

 

It was much easier to skip around to the music when Rey was only carrying chairs. The aged wooden ones could practically be thrown around, they were so light, and the barstools had the round bases that Rey wished the tables had. In no time at all, each chair or stool was either pushed up to a table or to one of the ledges Maz had fixed to the columns that supported the bowing, smoke-stained ceiling. Rey stood in a six-foot circle of space devoid of furniture.

 

It was only when the tables and chairs were cleared into Rey’s rough circle that all the lint and beer-stains on the floor became apparent. There was only so much sweeping up every day could do, apparently. The young woman tutted, shaking her head pseudo-theatrically, and marched off to the utility cupboard.

 

The cupboard was actually, as Rey had accidentally discovered by tripping and falling against it in her second week, the panel on which Maz tacked the bar calendar; opened by pressing the wood back in its frame. As modern as that might seem in a place like _Maz’s_ – which prided itself on its old-world charm, and even older clientele – the cupboard door had still been in situ a good fourteen years. If you didn’t get out of its way quickly, the over-eager spring-release made the panel door smack you in the face. Rey had discovered that part on her own too.

 

There wasn’t much in there; a compact vacuum, a broom-and-mop set, a couple of cleaning sprays, a bucket of tatty sponges. Even the light tucked behind the doorframe didn’t work. What Rey was hoping for was some wire wool or similar – to get the stains out of the floor. She had no such luck. With a sigh, Rey grabbed the vacuum; intent on getting at least the lint off the floor.

 

Rey had to tug the reluctant contraption out of the narrow hole left by the panel – a gap less than the width between her shoulders. At last, the vacuum sprang forth from its hiding place and Rey fell into the wall behind her from the sudden lack of resistance.

 

She dragged it, kicking and screaming with its rattling plastic and all, out to the main floor. Rey’s chapped fingers wrapped around the battered plastic plug and yanked to get the cable to release. Even the roll of grey cable seemed to grumble as it unravelled.

 

Actually plugging the vacuum in involved clambering around the back of the bar, under the radio’s power wire, and over the crates Rey had yet to move to reach the one remaining free power point. Now Rey just hoped the damn thing didn’t give up the ghost on her or something – that would be just typical.

 

Just as Rey poked her head back over the bar, roughly pushing a flyaway hair back towards her lopsided ponytail, the music on the radio changed. The harmonies of the previous song suddenly faded – replaced by a steady electro-beat that Rey knew well: Sia, _Cheap Thrills­_. A gleeful grin split her features and, checking no one was around despite the “Closed” sign on the door, Rey turned up the volume just as the lyrics called for the radio to be on. Rey chose to interpret that as on _louder_. As an added bit of fun, she flicked the light switches so that only the spots were on – illuminating the centre of the bar, where the band would be later.

 

_“It’s Friday night, and I won’t be long – gotta do my hair, and put my make-up on.”_

 

Rey sashayed towards the vacuum cleaner; feet artistically pointed out in front, leading her hips in which way to sway as she moved, her whole body twisting in time to the song. She lip-synched every word, her own voice trickling through and gaining volume with each line. Her hands were raised up at her sides, twirling them at each wrist and flexing her fingers in and out.

 

_“‘Till I hit the dancefloor, hit the dancefloor… I got all I need.”_

 

When she reached the vacuum, Rey put one foot on its compact plastic body and yanked the hose away dramatically – pointing it out away from her body. With a tilt of her foot onto the power switch, the machine came noisily to life. Not noisy enough to drown out the music, however.

 

_“Baby I don’t need dollar bills to have fun tonight!”_

 

Just as the chorus came in, Rey sang out loud into the imaginary mic stand made by the bend in the vacuum hose where metal pole became bellows-like plastic tubing. Her voice soared joyfully over the sound of the vacuum, and Rey could easily imagine a full house of cheering crowds out in the dark beyond her circle of light.

 

Rey danced around the vacuum and skidded across the wood-panelled floor, ratty shoes squeaking almost as loudly as the vacuum, as she cleaned and sang. The world fell away in that moment, nothing mattered. Rey skipped, swayed, and jumped – her back now to the bar, then to the front window. She had even forgotten to care whether or not someone walked in through the door.

 

The beat of the song was infectious, and Rey gladly let it take her far away from her cleaning task. She could imagine herself on stage, in a club, at a party – anywhere. Anywhere where the room wasn’t empty and the floor didn’t need her to clean it. Rey was free to roam far away.

 

Rey stamped down her left foot, then her right, in a light, bouncy motion that still allowed for her snake-like hip movements. Her free hand was thrown out to the side, or used to cover her face intensely as she wiggled down to a squat and sprang back up at a moment’s notice. She set her ankles together and bent her knees out and in sideways to the rhythm, torso practically lunging forward with the vacuum hose.

 

_“I don’t need no money… as long as I keep dancing.”_

 

The vocals cut away and Rey killed the noise from the vacuum at her side with a kick to the power button. Her cleaning done, she struck a pose; legs out wide and arms straight in line with her shoulders, one hand held the vacuum hose, the other was flat, palm-down to the floor. When Sia’s recorded voice returned, Rey sang in perfect time with the bridge, her free hand created a ripple-like effect along her arm as Rey turned her wrist.

 

_“Oh, Oh, OOOOOOOOOOOOO!”_

 

When the high-note soared, Rey’s voice went with it – her fist pumping into the air over her head as the arm holding the vacuum dropped behind her. Eyes squeezed shut, Rey released the vacuum hose and put her arms out at right-angles from her shoulders, head facing the ceiling as she continued to sing along at the top of her lungs, imagining a shower of sparks raining down on her open arms.

 

She followed the lyrics along with the reprise of the chorus, adding her own harmonious incidentals for flavour. Having now dropped the vacuum, Rey was free to dance however she liked; to spin on the tips of her toes or drop down to the floor to do a half-roll and gracefully push herself back up.

 

_“La, la, la, la, la, laaaa, la…”_

 

Rey stood, pulling the vacuum hose up with her and sang into the loop of plastic she had been using for a microphone. Her pose was strident, legs apart and a hand on her hip as she finished the song.

 

The music faded, Sia’s track melting away into something else. Rey took a step towards the radio to turn it back down-

 

“You having fun?”

 

At the sound the low voice, Rey shrieked and dropped the vacuum hose with a raucous clatter. Her instant reaction was to find something with which to fight, the vacuum wouldn’t be much help in that area – neither, really, was her brain, Rey’s heart was pumping blood around too quickly. The rich, warming laughter that resonated around the bar gave away her intruder’s identity even before Rey span on her heel to glare at him.

 

“ _Ben!_ ” Rey marched over to where he stood – halfway between her and the door, in the thicket of tables and chairs. She reached a hand up and playfully smacked him on his leather-clad shoulder. “What the hell are _you_ doing here? The sign says _closed!_ ”

 

“Oh, and it’s nice to see you too!” That infuriating smirk had yet to budge. There was even an errant curl of dark hair flopping over Ben’s nose that seemed to be teasing Rey. “I thought I’d swing by before my shift – maybe squeeze in a drink?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

 

Rey clicked her tongue and shook her head – looking away before casting her gaze back to him. There he stood; bike helmet tucked under one arm, dressed in clean black jeans and his equally black leather jacket, the tell-tale bright yellow hem of the work shirt Rey had come to recognise poking out from where she knew Ben had tried in vain to tuck it. She folded her arms, hip cocked to one side, and pursed her lips.

 

“Don’t you work at a kids’ restaurant?” She raised an eyebrow, a smirk already forming on her own face.

 

“What did you think the drink was for?”

 

“No,” Rey said definitively, turning away at last to turn the music down. She heard him follow her across the sticky wooden floor; Ben’s trainers making the same ripping sound that Rey’s did over the infamous patch of dried rum and coke.

 

“ _Please_ , Rey!” Ben came up and banged both of his large, gloved hands on the bar counter just as Rey appeared on the other side of it.

 

Rey ignored him, more interested in unplugging the vacuum and getting it put away before opening time – which had to be fast-approaching by now. The damn thing seemed stuck in the socket, however, and Rey’s fingers felt rubbed raw by the rough, weathered plastic casing of the plug by the time she managed to yank it out.

 

“Help me, Rey Kenobi,” Ben continued melodramatically from above her. “You’re my only hope.”

 

Whipping the vacuum cable out from all the places it had got caught behind the bar, Rey straightened her legs and stood – an unladylike snort shook her shoulders.

 

“Never let it be said that you aren’t a trier.” Rey ducked under the radio cord – though that would have to come out soon too – pulling the grey vacuum cable out so that it was free of all obstacles and dropped it with a _bang_ on the wood floor. “But no, I am not going to be the one to enable you getting drunk – or even mildly tipsy – around small children. No sir.”

 

“One drink won’t do that! I’m no lightweight!” Ben folded his arms across his chest.

 

“ _Please_ remember that I have actually sat drinking with you and know exactly how much it takes to take you down.” Rey had, by this point, walked over to the vacuum and was then standing with her foot leaning on the button that retracted the grey power cord. Ben had to jump out of the way as the weighty plug snapped up in the air near his ankle.

 

“About as much as it takes _you_ , as I recall.”

 

“Oh really?” Rey raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Yeah, really,” Ben teased back, taking a couple of long strides to Rey. “You want me to prove it?”

 

“Hmm,” Rey pretended to mull it over, letting her eyes go glassy for half-a-second before returning her gaze to Ben’s face. “Go to work, Solo.”

 

Ben groaned theatrically, tossing his head back. Rey rolled her eyes and left him to it, grabbing the vacuum by its handle and beginning the arduous process of stuffing it back into the death-trap utility cupboard. Rey was starting to wonder if Maz had had the place designed for her specially – it would certainly explain why the cupboard was so narrow.

 

It took a couple of tries, a lot of re-angling, and no small amount of brute force to get the vacuum back in the cupboard. Truth be told, Rey actually wasn’t certain how she had got it out in the first place. Either way, there were very few feelings that quite compared to what Rey felt when she re-engaged the catch on the utility cupboard door.

 

Rey came back out to the main bar area to see Ben perching on one of the beaten-looking table tops. He had a uniquely pensive look on his face, one Rey couldn’t remember seeing on him. She wove her way around the tangle of bar furniture to reach him, just on the edge of the empty space Rey had made. The radio still hummed along in the background.

 

Plonking down next to Ben, Rey let out a heavy sigh. It would be a long time before she could put her feet up like she wanted, but maybe this small breather would help in the long run.

 

Ben huffed. “If I’d known, y’know, I’d have changed my shift.”

 

“Known what?” Rey frowned, utterly mystified.

 

She looked quickly around the room, trying to see what on Earth he was on about. The bar didn’t appear tremendously different, besides the rearrangement of furniture, there wasn’t anything new since Ben had been in the night before. Ben, apparently, didn’t notice Rey’s confusion.

 

“Well… that you were performing tonight.” He turned to look at her, mischief written all over his face; from his wonky smirk to his glittering black eyes.

 

“Oh, ha-ha, very funny.” Rey pushed herself off the table top and stretched – fingers clasped and hands reaching for the ceiling, her back arced up and cracked in three places. “No, the band who are performing tonight-”

 

“Have hired you as a dancer?” Ben suggested, now balancing his chin on the back of his curled fingers.

 

Rey shot him a sardonic look, then carried on as if he’d never spoken. “Wanted to perform _in the round_.” She raised her hands and made lazy air-quotes with her fingers.

 

“What are they going to be doing, hula-hooping?”

 

Ben’s sarcasm elicited another snort from Rey. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded. Actors, dancers, poets – if need be – these all perform in the round; not music bands. Rey, however, was in no position to question it; so long as she got paid the overtime.

 

“I don’t know,” Rey shrugged, “but I _do_ know that I have to get this place ready for paying punters within the next half-hour.”

 

“Is that my cue to leave?” Ben stood up, blocking most of the glow from the spotlights from falling on Rey. An amiable smile lit up his shadowed face and Rey decided she very much preferred that to the frown that used to be his usual expression.

 

“I’ll see you later?” She pulled a cloth out from her belt and gave their table top a cursory dust, glancing at Ben over her shoulder.

 

“Yeah, yeah… see you Rey.” He shot Rey that cocky half-smirk and devilish wink that never failed to make her roll her hazel eyes.

 

Ben stumbled back out into the rapidly-darkening evening from whence he had come and tugged his helmet on over his ridiculously well-kept hair. Rey was left to get _Maz’s_ ready on her own and the place seemed a little emptier now than it had before.

 

When the band did arrive and get their kit in place, no one said anything about the ridiculousness of the arrangements, and the musicians didn’t say thank you to anyone for the extra effort. If Maz thought anything was strange, she didn’t mention it – Rey reckoned the older woman had probably seen worse over the course of her lifetime.

 

The music wasn’t half bad, in the end. Rey couldn’t help but feel it would have been better with hula-hoops, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, it means a lot :)


	19. Parental Guidance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I just say thank you all for reading and thank you for your comments - they make my day! I am thoroughly enjoying your predictions for this story, given that I have the whole thing pretty much planned out now and I know exactly what is going on and how much longer you have to wait haha! Keep them coming, by all means!

Rain tapped lazily at Rey’s window, hardly washing the pane of glass but making tracks through the fine layer of dust that had gathered on its surface. The endless grey clouds overhead blanketed the sky and washed out all the colours of the world. It was no bad thing that Rey wasn’t going to work today.

 

Maz was as shrewd as she was short and the wizened woman had noticed that Rey hadn’t had a day off since the new year. Despite protests that she was trying to save up money for a trip, Rey was ordered to have a day off, and this was it.

 

Rey sat by the floor-to-ceiling window in her front room, wear jeans and a loose t-shirt with her hair scrunched up in a single bun. Spread out around her on the oatmeal-coloured carpet were the few remaining bits of gears and wires and suchlike she had left. It was a paltry sight compared to what Rey used to have – barely enough to make an operational mechanism. For lack of anything else to do, however, her friends being locked down at work, Rey settled for fiddling with the mechanical parts and trying to see if there was any way they could fit together and do something productive. Thus far, there wasn’t.

 

Rey was in the process of splicing a couple of old wires together when the static _buzz_ of Rey’s phone sounded from where she had thrown it on her upturned-crate coffee table, rattling against the hollow wood. With one hand still holding the mis-matched wires, she stretched over from her spot on the floor and snatched up the small device. With a click of the central button, the phone’s illuminated screen told her that she had a new message from Ben.

 

_[HELP]_

 

Alarm instantly thrumming through her, Rey went to press the icon to call him back and find out what the hell was going on. Before she could, however, her phone buzzed again.

 

_[CHILD. NEED HELP]_

 

Rey frowned at the bizarre message, her lips slowly forming the words as her mind processed them. Her face still crumpled in confusion, Rey typed and sent her response.

 

_[What’s going on? R u ok?]_

A matter of seconds later, and Rey heard a _thud_ from the room above. It wasn’t loud enough for it to have been Ben falling over, but it might have been his squat side-table. Rey looked up, watching her ceiling like she would suddenly develop x-ray vision. Her phone buzzed against the bare skin of her hand.

 

_[NO. HELP]_

_[R u a caveman, or do u think that u could possibly explain in full sentences w/out caps on?]_

 

Giving a small shake of her head, Rey dropped her phone onto the carpet by her knee and carried on with her mechanical project. The sharp wires dug into her skin at every opportunity, causing Rey to wince and hiss. As tough as her fingers got from scrapping at Plutt’s or cleaning at _Maz’s_ , the wires always found that one spot of soft skin left on Rey’s fingertips. _Buzz._

_[mom volunteered me to babysit her friends kid and its killing my apartment]_

_[PLEASE HELP]_

 

Rey let the hand holding her phone drop slightly, closing her eyes and biting her lip to stop herself from cackling with laughter at the image of Ben trying to look after a small child. It was almost as good as the first time she had caught sight of Ben’s work uniform in his wardrobe and imagined the outrageous spectacle he must make wearing it.

 

After a moment of holding her breath, waiting for her reflex to breathe to overthrow the urge to laugh, Rey cleared her throat and tapped back her answer quickly with one thumb. As much as she was usually more than happy to help her friends out of a jam, this was one Ben would have to handle on his own; Rey was finally getting somewhere with her pile of junk. She barely glanced at what she had written before hitting send.

 

  _[U will machete through this]_

 

Rey blinked, her eyes widening as she realised what she had just sent Ben. Dropping the wires of her mechanism, Rey clutched her phone in both hands and swiftly typed out the correction. Her mouth involuntarily quirked up at the edges at the ridiculous idea of Ben trying to machete his way through something.

 

_[Oh god *make it]_

_[Please don't machete ur way through this]_

Thumbs tapping idly on the edges of her shiny silver phone, Rey bit her lip as she waited for Ben to answer her. She didn’t really think Ben _would_ kill a child with a machete… or that he even _had_ a machete, but it didn’t hurt to be clear.

 

The two-word answer came back almost instantly.

 

_[Too late.]_

That was the final straw.

 

Rey huffed and pushed herself up from the floor, her simplistic mechanics would have to wait – it wasn’t as if she was particularly proud of the tangle of wires on her carpet.

 

Grabbing her keys and shoving her feet into the last pair of shoes she had thrown down – two sturdy, camel-coloured, boots with worn insteps – Rey ran out the door. She didn’t even bother to tie the thick laces of her boots as she took the stairs to the floor above two at a time – allowing the momentum from springing up the last step to carry her onto the next one. In no time at all, Rey was standing at Ben’s door, rapping her knuckles on the door and watching as more paint flaked off onto her shoes.

 

“S’unlocked!” Ben shouted breathlessly from the other side of the door.

 

Without further invitation, Rey twisted the handle and pushed the door open. She was greeted by the smell of baby lotion and sugar – a combination that had the young woman wrinkling her nose as she closed the door behind her.

 

Unlike when the band was practicing, the curtains in Ben’s apartment were open; bathing his furniture in the same dull, lifeless light that swathed Rey’s flat downstairs. It did mean, however, that Rey could, for once, see every weathered crease on Ben’s leather three-seater and its companion armchair. She could see the bag with the bulk of a decent-sized hiking backpack, stuffed full of the necessaries for childcare where it was slung on the floor. The imposing drum kit sat, almost broodily, in its corner in front of the left side of the large window on the far side of the room. The array of lamps that were used to illuminate band practice were pushed to the sides of the room on their various short side tables – on the floor next to one of these was Ben’s battered phone. All that was noticeably missing was Ben… and the child that was supposedly plaguing him.

 

“Ben?” Rey edged forwards, hands hovering at her sides.

 

“Over here.” His voice came from behind the armchair, near the open bedroom door. Rey immediately switched her course from towards the middle of the room, to aiming for the back of the chair.

 

As she walked around, Rey caught sight first of Ben’s sock-covered feet – a noticeable hole baring his right ankle – then his dark jeans, hugging the curves of his leg muscles. At last, she found the rest of him; stretched out, lying on his stomach, propping his torso up on his elbows, a newly-bought black hoodie pulling over his back. Just a little over his arm’s length away, watching Ben with the large, watery-blue eyes that were set in their dark face, was the toddler in question. In its chubby-fingered grip was one of Ben’s drumsticks; the tip of which was being industriously chewed on by the brightly-clothed child.

 

The toddler looked like something from a spring florals spread in a magazine; every inch of material that covered its plump body was splashed with electric blue, brilliant violet, and pillar-box red five-petalled flowers. Pushing back the child’s short, dark hair was a purple band with yet another simplified flower plastered onto it. As Rey could see, however, Ben was much more concerned with the item in her mouth.

 

“Zoe, _Please_ give it back,” the man whined, stretching out his long fingers towards the toddler. Every centimetre Ben crept forward was an inch the flower-baby shuffled back.

 

“Are you _pleading_ with a _toddler?_ ” Rey put her hands on her hips, disbelieving her eyes and ears. “The great _Kylo Ren_ , heavy metal drum player, is pleading with a toddler?”

 

Ben huffed and turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Yes, now, would you please either _help_ or be _quiet?_ ” He didn’t wait for her reply before turning back to the toddler.

 

A loud snort came out of Rey’s nose and earned one more glare from Ben’s dark eyes. Zoe gurgled out a brief, childish cackle at the pair of adults, then, as she saw attention was on her, went back to gnawing on Ben’s drumstick. Rey leant forward, supporting herself on the back of the armchair; the soft, distressed leather crumpling under her fingers. She watched Ben crawl forward on his belly closer and closer to Zoe – who always waited until he was within an inch or so of her pink-socked feet before moving out of reach once more.

 

“You know,” the sound of Rey talking elicited an exasperated sigh from Ben, “maybe pleading is the wrong way to go about it…”

 

“Would you stop using that word? _Pleading._ It makes me sound so pathetic.”

 

Rey chose not to answer that directly, too many cutting responses came to mind. Instead, she carried on with what she was saying, an enigmatic smirk toying with the corners of her lips. “Maybe, we should be showing _her_ who’s boss.”

 

“By all means, Supernanny, have at it.” Ben gestured at Zoe and shuffled as far out of the way as he could in the small space between the back of his armchair and the wall.

 

Kicking off her boots, Rey squeezed into the spot Ben had left – her feet cramped between his knees and the chair with her legs twisted just slightly the wrong way. One hand was pressed flat against the wall with her little finger pressed up to the wooden frame of Ben’s bedroom door, elbow bent back behind Rey, the other was clutching the back of the armchair a little tighter than strictly necessary.

 

Rey echoed Ben’s movements from before; bending towards Zoe and leaving her support on the wall to reach out for the drumstick. The toddler had switched her attention, having realised the dynamics had changed, and was peering dubiously up at Rey. She made no move to back away from the young woman, however, even when Rey started to curl her fingers around the wooden drumstick.

 

“That’s it, let me have-”

 

In the blink of an eye – at a speed Rey didn’t even know small children possessed – Zoe turned around and scampered off with the drumstick. Rey, in shock at how quickly the situation, much like Zoe, had gotten away from her, lost her balance. Her legs went out from beneath her and her grip on Ben’s chair slipped away in an instant. Rey landed with a yelp on Ben.

 

“Yeah, you sure showed _her_ ,” Ben grunted, trying to shift into a more comfortable position, effectively shrugging Rey off him.

 

“I’m sorry, but were _you_ doing any better?” Rey shoved gently against him, not liking the way her collarbone ached from having collided with Ben’s shoulder. “We’d better get her back.”

 

“I thought we’d leave her to run rampant,” Ben said dryly.

 

The pair had now wriggled enough that they were reasonably free of each other; Rey lay on her stomach, craning her neck as far around the edge of the armchair as she could; Ben on his side with his back flat against the wall, propping up his hand on one hand buried in his wild black hair. Rey _hmphed_ and gave him a look not dissimilar to the glare she had received earlier.

 

Ben’s face hovered on the line of near enough to see the thin, lightning-white line Rey’s keys had left on his nose, and too close to focus. His nose was within an inch of touching Rey’s lower lip and Rey was suddenly aware of how her left forearm was lying pressed up against the arm of his that Ben was using as a prop for his head.

 

Rey shook her head and pushed herself forwards and up. “Come on, there can’t be _that_ many places in this flat for Zoe to have gone.”

 

Ben nodded and followed suit once Rey was out of the way, brushing dust off the front of his navy-blue shirt. He went one way, she went the other.

 

While there may not have been that many places for the crawling toddler to go, Rey soon discovered that there were enough to make the task of locating her a difficult one. Every so often, Rey thought she caught sight of a bright swatch of material or a moving head of dark, curly hair, but each time she got anywhere near the last sighting Zoe had moved on – if she was even there in the first place.

 

Ben was having precious little more luck. Rey’s search for the wandering child was frequently punctuated with _aha_ ’s and _there you are_ ’s. Even the occasional shout when Ben lunged for Zoe and missed – faceplanting into the carpet.

 

It wasn’t too long before Zoe decided that she was faster without the drumstick in her hand and Rey found it discarded by the kitchen door; the chewed end full of little dents and covered in saliva. Rey picked it up by the other end, holding it between only her thumb and forefinger – all other fingers stretching away from it like they would detach from her hand entirely.

 

Rey turned slowly, her nose wrinkled like she had smelled something awful and held up the offending object to Ben. Ben shot up from where he was crouching on the floor on all fours and grabbed the drumstick from her – dropping it with an _eugh_ sound as he realised it was still slick and slimy from Zoe’s chewing. At his expression of absolute disgust, Rey couldn’t – and had no wish to – stop the giggles that bubbled up her throat and evolved into a full-blown cackle.

 

Ben, on seeing her reaction, wasted no time in wiping his spit-covered hand off on the sleeve of Rey’s baggy grey shirt. Rey squealed and pushed him away, leaping off to stand on the other side of his coffee table for protection. Ben answered with a rich laugh of his own, bending down to retrieve the drumstick from the not-chewed end and set it on the edge of the kitchen counter.

 

A peel of wet, high-pitched baby giggles rang out across the room. Rey’s head snapped around to see Zoe’s big, blue eyes and toothy grin shining back at her from behind the drum kit. With a quick glance at Ben, Rey jerked her head towards the drums to let him know what she was going to do.

 

Rey took a few slow steps towards Zoe, crouching nearer to the floor with every foot of ground she gained. Ben, conversely, moved swiftly to the other side of the drum kit; once again cramming himself between the armchair and the wall. Zoe was now, effectively, boxed in – one or other of either Ben or Rey would get her.

 

The element of surprise, of course, was gone the moment Rey had looked back at Ben. Zoe’s warm, tawny features had become deadly serious in the moment that she had been out of Rey’s sight and it was obvious the toddler was planning her next escape route. Unfortunately for Zoe, she was far too small to see over Ben’s floor drum and had no idea that, when she scurried away from Rey, she was heading right into Ben’s waiting arms.

 

Joyous squeals and giggles resounded throughout Ben’s small flat as he seized the slippery toddler and lifted her suddenly into the air like a plane taking flight. A motion she evidently enjoyed. As Rey straightened up again and saw them, she felt the widening smile grow on her face until her teeth were showing and her cheeks started to ache.

 

Ben held Zoe close, sitting her on his left forearm and supporting her shoulder with his right hand. The position was a little stiff, and it was obvious that he wasn’t used to holding children, but it was enough to stop her from falling from his grip. Zoe wriggled and tried to get free at first, but quickly realised that wasn’t happening when Ben tightened his hold on her and settled for staring up at him. Ben attempted a smile, but it just came across awkward.

 

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Rey walked over to the pair and offered to take Zoe from Ben – to which he more than happily agreed. In no time at all, Rey was carefully balancing the solid weight of a plump toddler on her hip.

 

Now in the arms of someone who had a slightly better idea of what they were doing – swaying gently back and forth – Zoe let out a drawn-out, whining yawn and tucked herself closer to Rey’s neck. Rey continued swaying as she walked over to Ben’s armchair, only turning back when she was nearly there.

 

“Could you get a blanket out of there, please?” Rey nodded in the direction of the bag of baby stuff.

 

After a moment’s hesitation, frowning a Rey like she had just spoken another language, Ben leapt to action. He practically tore open the bag’s zip – which Rey considered totally unnecessary – and pulled out a red and blue spotted blanket. He held it out to Rey for her to take until she darted her eyes sharply to the seat of the armchair and back to him again.

 

“Oh, right,” he mumbled.

 

Ben covered the distance in two long strides and hurriedly smoothed the soft material over the arms and seat of the chair. While he did that, Rey continued rocking Zoe as she became more and more drowsy. The toddler was like a limp doll in Rey’s arms by the time the blanket was sufficiently to Ben’s satisfaction that Zoe could be laid down on it.

 

Rey leaned over until she could feel Zoe’s weight was completely supported by the chair before she withdrew her arms, leaving the toddler curled against a blanket-draped cushion. One final, rebellious yawn burst free from Zoe’s gap-toothed mouth before she resigned herself to sleep completely.

 

Both Rey and Ben stood stock-still, holding their breath, to be sure she was definitely asleep. Content that she was, they trudged over to the three-seater and collapsed down into it; both of them letting their heads loll on the back of the sofa. Rey could feel the pressure of Ben’s arm against hers and leant imperceptibly towards the familiar warmth he offered.

 

“So,” Rey murmured, not wanting to wake the slumbering toddler. Ben rolled his head around to face Rey. “ _Why_ did you get volunteered to babysit?”

 

“One of mom’s friends – Zoe’s mom – went into early labour this morning-”

 

“She’s having _another_ one?”

 

“Mm-hm,” Ben nodded, “and they couldn’t get anyone else quickly. Thanks for helping out, by the way.”

 

Rey shook her head. “Don’t worry about it – what are friends for, huh?” She couldn’t see the benefit of mentioning that she was in the middle of something when he texted, not now.

 

“How’d you get so good at handling kids, anyway?”

 

Rey shrugged and turned away to look back at the ceiling, using the plain surface to distract her from the expression she knew her next words would elicit from Ben. She had always hated this part, but it felt like as good a time as any to tell him.

 

“Parents died when I was young, so I was in care for a while – lots of kids, lots of them younger than me… you either get used to looking after them or pray you go deaf from the screaming.” Rey spoke as quickly as her lips would allow, and even that felt like it took too long.

 

“Jeez, Rey, I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Ben’s words died in his mouth when Rey rested her hand lightly over his.

 

“Don’t- don’t do that.” She looked back and offered him a smile, though Rey knew it was lacklustre at best. “It’s okay – _I’m_ okay, really, but that _is_ how come I know how to handle kids a bit.”

 

Ben smiled back at her, but his eyes still had that glaze of pity in them that Rey hated seeing. In most people, it was involuntary, she knew; they heard the sad-and-tragic story of poor little orphaned Rey and immediately felt bad for her. She had gotten used to it, just one more thing to throw at her thicker-than-a-rhino’s-hide skin. That didn’t stop the lurching sensation in her gut that made Rey feel like she was a helpless six-year-old again whenever she saw that look in someone’s eyes.

 

A loud sigh from Ben, directed up at the ceiling, got Rey’s attention. “Do you want a coffee or something?”

 

“Ugh, _please!_ ” Rey groaned in response, the grin on her face suddenly feeling lighter and unforced.

 

“Black with caramel and nutmeg, right?”

 

Rey stared at him, wide-eyed, her brain working overtime to figure out how the hell he knew her coffee order. Was he stalking her? Had Poe told him? After her rapid deliberation, the actual answer occurred to Rey like flicking on a light switch; the time Ben brought her coffee at work. She was seconds away from telling him he was a saint for suggesting it, but all that formed on her lips was a soft smile.

 

Ben chuckled and heaved himself up off the sofa with another groan. Rey kicked him lightly in the shins to remind him to be quiet before he made too much noise. A hurried glance at Zoe, however, told them both that the toddler was far from waking up any time soon.

 

In no time at all, Ben had disappeared through the door to the left of the three-seater and into the kitchen. Soon the coffee pot was hissing and gurgling away and Rey could hear the sounds of Ben moving around in his kitchen to fetch to mugs. She pushed herself back into the soft leather with a contented sigh.

 

Letting her eyes slide around the room, Rey saw that Ben had, in his haste to get the blanket out of the baby-care bag, scattered a packet of baby food and a couple of toys across the floor. She stretched her neck round to see into the kitchen but it was no use, Ben was well out of sight and the coffee pot was still bubbling. Not one to leave a task that could be completed right away, Rey resigned herself to the situation, got up and went to gather the unheeded things.

 

As Rey stood, her limbs felt stiff even after that short break; requiring a long stretch for both of her arms. Rey chastised herself that she had gotten so lazy since leaving Plutt’s. Nonetheless, she bent down and carefully retrieved each wayward item and shoved them back in the large bag.

 

Her task complete, Rey turned and took a step back towards the sofa. It was her next step, however, as Rey brought her right foot quickly forward to overtake her left, that caused problems. In her eagerness to collapse back into the soft cushions, Rey was paying very little attention to where she was actually putting her feet.

 

To Rey’s memory, no pain had ever been as great as the one she felt as the corner of Ben’s coffee table forcefully bent her toes back when she kicked it.

 

“ _FUCK! Ow!_ ” Rey yelled, crumpling in half and using the emotionless coffee table for support as she balanced on one leg.

 

The young woman didn’t even know what she had done until she heard the squeakily-repeated “fuck” from the armchair.

 

Rey looked up in horror as Zoe gazed gleefully back, fingers hooked over her lower lip. Her glistening eyes brimmed with excitement as she took a deep breath and repeated her new-found word. Her enunciation was sharp, the cuss could almost be yet another one of the little girl’s squeaks. Unfortunately for Rey, it wasn’t.

 

“Fuck!” Every time she said it, Zoe grinned a little wider; sometimes accompanied by bubbly little giggles. “Fuck!”

 

“No. No, no, nononono _no_ ,” Rey put a hand out towards the child in an effort to make her stop by sheer force of will. “ _Please_ stop that-”

 

“Fuck!”

 

A thousand and one things flew through Rey’s head at lightning speed, first and foremost of which; _how the hell do I make it stop?_ While Rey _had_ been around smaller children during her time in care-homes, this particular issue had never arisen. Either Rey had been too small herself to know very many cuss words, or there had been too much general noise around for any of the toddlers to pick up on what she was saying.

 

“Fuck!”

 

“What’s going on in here?” Ben came back through, a steaming mug of coffee in each hand and a frown on his face. He looked from Zoe to Rey, then back again when the toddler proudly proclaimed what she had learned.

 

“Fuck!”

 

A look of pure, unadulterated, wide-eyed shock on Ben’s face was what greeted Rey when he slowly brought his attention to her once more. Far from being horrified, his slack-jawed expression gave way, in slow-motion, to a grin larger than any Rey had ever seen – even on Poe. That, in turn, became a low chuckle and then a full, resonant laugh. Throughout this whole spectacle, Rey glared at him with her lips sourly pursed.

 

As the laughter shook his shoulders, Ben almost spilled coffee everywhere. All while he laughed, Zoe would interject with either her favourite word or her own tumble of squealy giggles.

 

Rey strode over and took the coffee away from Ben – spinning twice as fast around to deposit them on the low table when she realised how hot they were. She turned back to Ben just as he was wiping tears out of his eyes.

 

“This _isn’t_ funny!”

 

“Oh, I beg to differ!” Ben spluttered.

 

“Fuck!” Zoe exclaimed, chuckling to herself.

 

“And so does she, apparently.” Ben barely got the words out before he started laughing again.

 

“I’m serious!” Rey pulled on Ben’s arm to get him to look her in the eye. “What are we going to tell her mum…? What are we going to tell _your_ mum?”

 

Ben sighed and shook his head at Rey – that incorrigible smirk on his face making it plain in no uncertain terms that this whole situation was still hilarious to him. He nodded seriously at her and folded him arms. Planting his feet on the floor, square to the armchair, Ben pulled himself up to his full height and did his best to appear severe.

 

“Well,” he began, his voice only a little less shaky with humour than before. “We’ll just have to say she came like that.” A snort burst out of him before he could stop it, and the thin façade was gone.

 

“Ben!”

 

“Come on, come on, these things happen.” Ben rested a hand just below Rey’s shoulder, long fingers curling comfortingly around her upper arm. “There’s no sense worrying about it, I’m sure everyone will understand.”

 

Rey allowed herself to feel a little better; Ben had a point, after all. Then Ben finished what he was saying.

 

“That you have a filthy mouth and swear in front of innocent younglings,” he finished matter-of-factly with a nod.

 

“ _Ben!_ ” Rey whined, throwing her hands up to cover her face.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Ben chuckled. “Just sit down, and drink this coffee that I slaved away over a hot coffee pot making for you.”

 

To illustrate his point, Ben plonked down on the sofa and grabbed the chipped red mug that was evidently his. Once he had taken a sip of the scalding liquid and decided it was palatable, Ben gestured at the green mug left on the coffee table with the mug he held in his hand. Short of anything else to do, Rey gave in and sat next to him. When she didn’t immediately descend on the coffee, Ben picked it up and put it in her hands. Rey rolled her eyes and took a sip.

 

It wasn’t quite right, not like the caf opposite Plutt’s scrapyard, there was too much caramel and not enough nutmeg. Looking at his open, expectant expression Rey decided that it would be worth it to teach him how to do her coffee perfectly – he would listen to her. It wasn’t bad, though, even if it was a little on the sweet side.

 

“It’ll do,” Rey smiled.

 

Ben seemed pleased enough with her answer and slouched back into the sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table so that his knees bent up to the ceiling. He happily concentrated on the dark concoction swirling in his own mug. Rey was about to ask him what was in it, when her thoughts were rudely interrupted-

 

“Fuck!”

 

This time, Rey found herself snorting and giggling at the toddler. Zoe was more than happy to laugh along with her.

 

“See, it _is_ funny.” Ben nudged Rey’s side with his knee.

 

“Alright, it is a little funny,” Rey admitted, resting back beside him – her coffee cradled in her hands.

 

They spent the better part of the day like that; Rey and Ben taking turns making the coffee, Zoe giggling and crawling circles around the pair of them. When it came time for the toddler to go back to her mother, both Ben and Rey were silent when asked the unavoidable question;

 

_“She wasn’t any trouble, was she?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that text exchange was inspired by this: http://yeah-mani.tumblr.com/post/142267281912/lovelyladylunacy-imagine-your-otp-with  
> ...sometimes I just can't help myself XD


	20. Playing Cupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the next plot arc, I hope you enjoy your stay!

“Praline,” Rey drawled, her wine-soaked tongue sticking on the ‘r’ and almost missing the ‘n’ altogether.

 

“Nope.” Ben gave a giddy smile and went to put the chocolate in his mouth.

 

“Wait! Waitwaitwait!” Rey clambered practically into Ben’s lap to pull his hand – and, more importantly, the chocolate – away from his lips. “I get another guess.”

 

They had been playing this game ever since they left the convenience store around the corner from _Maz’s_ with their boxes of half-price Valentine’s chocolate. That was at least two hours ago. Ben and Rey were taking it in turns to pick a chocolate from an open box and make the other one guess what was in it. If the guesser guessed right, they ate the chocolate, if they got it wrong three times they forfeit. It rather depended on how well the selector could read the little menu cards in each box, but, so far, only two chocolates had been misidentified.

 

In and of itself, the game shouldn’t have seemed vastly appealing to either of them. As it was, Rey and Ben were both far too drunk to care.

 

“No you don’t, tha’s three!” Ben’s objection rang out in a child-like tone through the night air.

 

“ _No!_ I guessed coffee crème,” Rey counted the guesses theatrically on her fingers. “Then praline. Two!”

 

Rey held up her fingers defiantly in Ben’s face, grinning from ear to ear. Ben grabbed her hand, clamping her fingers together in his warm palm, and pulled it down to his side. Even when Rey’s hand was well out of the way and Ben could once again see clearly, he did not release her. Maybe it was the cheap alcohol raging through her system, or maybe it was the insane sugar high she was on, but Rey didn’t much mind.

 

“There’s ‘nother one you guessed… what? Strawberry, tha’s-it!”

 

“Oh yeah,” Rey giggled – an expression that melted with the chocolate in Ben’s mouth as he finally bit into it.

 

“Mmm, _orange_.”

 

Rey playfully walloped his shoulder. Ben played along and pretended it hurt.

 

The idea for getting together sometime after Valentine’s day _had_ been Jess’ idea originally; the singles of the group go out, get drunk and eat mountains of on-sale chocolate. That had been before she had landed herself a date – leaving Rey and Ben to be single on their own.

 

They had started at _Maz’s_ , after Rey had handed over to Kole for the evening shift. Ben turned up in his traditional black _everything_ and leather jacket. A stiff cocktail each was about all the pair could afford if they wanted to have enough left over for their singles’-binge at the convenience store. Neither of them complained too much, the bar was getting packed by the time Ben elbowed his way out – customers falling over each other to get inside. There wasn’t even a band on that night. Rey followed along in Ben’s wake, anchoring herself to him by holding on to his jacket.

 

Once the pair got to the small, open-all-hours shop round the corner – with its flickering neon sign that informed them it was ‘op’ as the ‘en’ wasn’t working – they realised that between them they had enough for either one _huge_ box of chocolates or three small ones and a six-pack of some obscure beer neither of them had ever seen before. Rey, however, insisted that wine was the drink required if they were going to do this properly – chocolates and beer just didn’t have the same effect. In the end, they walked out of the store with a box of chocolates each and a couple of bottles of the cheapest wine going. The latter didn’t even make it to the door before they opened one.

 

Leaving the shop, they had meandered around the city; through high-rises, closed shopfronts, and the occasional dirt-trod park – walking further and further out from the centre of town. The only people they saw were rushing somewhere and didn’t smile. No one paid any mind to the pair who were steadily getting more drunk as they loudly guessed chocolate varieties.

 

It was soon at the point where they saw no one out at all. The streetlights, standing as sentinels along their path, became more spread out as they went until, at last, Rey spotted somewhere she recognised: Plutt’s scrapyard.

 

It had taken Ben a moment to realise where they were and follow Rey as she tipsily scampered off away from the main gate and its ginormous padlock, and towards the rickety back fence. What took much less time was the pair of them finding a gaping hole through which they could both scramble. Rey wondered at the purpose of the large padlock on the gate as the rusty, bent wires plucked and picked at her grey-blue jumper on the way through. Rey then tiptoed off – looking for a place to sit – before Ben had even got his shoulders yard-side of the fence.

 

Rey had never seen the scrapyard so dark before – the only light came from the streetlight by the main gate, shafts of dim illumination haphazardly finding their way over and around the jagged mounds of scrap. It made the place seem more threatening than she remembered – the effect was almost sobering. Rey turned slowly on the spot to take it all in. A cooling night breeze whistled through the twisted metal bones of unidentifiable machinery and Rey wrapped her arms a little tighter around her chest.

 

Once Ben had joined her, they sat on the bonnet of an old Ford and laid out their spoils – or what was left of them, being half a box of chocolates and three quarters of their second bottle of wine. The game of guessing chocolates had begun again in earnest almost before both players were settled on the creaking car.

 

They had been there for about an hour, and the orange delectable that Ben had just claimed as his prize was the last chocolate left in the box. The object of her efforts now gone, Rey slid back to her spot beside Ben; noting that the cold metal car was much less comfortable than Ben’s lap. Her only consolation, was that the remnants of the last bottle of wine was on her side. She raised it to her lips and took a couple of gulps; allowing the slightly acidic, very dry, wine to flow down her throat.

 

Since they had arrived, the temperature had plummeted. The wind hadn’t built up that much, but its tentative, icy tendrils tugged at Rey’s clothes and hair. She was only glad she was wearing jeans instead of a skirt, where the wind could get that much closer to her tingling skin. As a result, both Ben and Rey had been unintentionally edging closer and closer to each other, needing the warmth from the contact.

 

“We should date,” Ben blurted out suddenly, throwing the now-empty chocolate box over his shoulder. A hollow, cardboard clatter soon followed.

 

“What?” Rey blinked, not sure she’d heard that right. Also, experiencing an odd sense of déjà vu.

 

She looked at Ben, searching his impossibly black eyes and mis-matched freckles for some clue as to where _that_ had come from. Rey’s brain, however, moved at a frustratingly sluggish pace and she wasn’t able to reach a conclusion before Ben explained himself; grinning like he was telling the punchline to an amazing joke.

 

“For April Fools,” he was still smiling, though hadn’t made it all the way to a laugh. “It’d be funny.”

 

Rey rolled her eyes. At least, that was what she meant to do – whether it worked according to plan, she wasn’t sure, the world was wobbling too much for her to tell if she actually looked to the heavens, or if they moved down for her. “You’re drunk.”

 

The irony of the fact that those two words practically fell out of her mouth as she struggled to form distinct-sounding ‘r’s’ was not lost on Rey – no matter how inebriated she was. Ben only grinned more, if that was possible, utterly oblivious to Rey’s temporary speech issue.

 

“You too,” he said dreamily back.

 

Rey just stared at him for a beat, her mind comparing this to the last time he asked her out; mingling remembered feelings of rage with the alcohol and current feelings of amusement. She took in Ben’s lopsided smirk and glassy, black eyes – and the way his mop of tangled black hair waved in front of his features with every passing breeze. A slight redness tinged what Rey could see of his cheeks in the half-light; presumably from the drink. Rey imagined she looked much the same – mixing alcohols had never been her strong suit.

 

“Okay; April Fools prank,” Rey held her finger aloft before stabbing it dramatically down into Ben’s chest – her eyes and whole head imitating the motion tipsily. “You and me date.”

 

Rey felt her head loll heavily to the side, her slightly blurry focus still on the finger of hers jabbed into the soft fabric of Ben’s jumper. It was like her skull was full of wet sand; slopping from side to side. Rey managed to pull her head up to look her friend in the eye – or, at least, enough up that she could _see_ his eyes.

 

Ben was smiling so wide that Rey thought his face might split clean in two. He placed a large, warm hand on each of Rey’s shoulders and pulled her gently, if slightly uncoordinatedly, into a more upright position. Rey still found herself leaning a touch more towards Ben than she should have been, but it was better than staring down at her own hand.

 

As much as it would have been a blast to have Jess there with them – certainly, there would have been more booze – Rey actually rather liked sitting out in the scrapyard with just Ben. The unimpressive yellow-amber streetlight had started to flicker at random intervals, giving the impression of a bizarre candle. It was very atmospheric.

 

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” Ben murmured Rey’s thoughts aloud. His hands dropped down to his sides, though he didn’t move away at all. Rey could smell the mingling of wine and chocolate on his breath. “Means I had an excuse to tell my… uh, mom.”

 

With that, the spell was decidedly broken. “Oh, _thanks!_ ”

 

Rey leaned away, chuckling. She wasn’t upset, the look on Ben’s face told Rey that he hadn’t meant it like that. What his intentions _actually_ were, though, remained a total mystery. For all his efforts, Ben was still champion at ruining a mood.

 

“You know what I mean,” – Rey could assure him she didn’t – “My uncle is in town – for once – and mom wanted me to see him.” Ben looked suddenly flustered, his black eyes widening just enough for the gleaming whites to catch the light. “Sorry, shouldn’t be bothering you with, uh, family stuff.”

 

The way he said it stuck out to Rey as odd – maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe she would ask him about it when the world stopped pitching from side to side. Ben appeared not to notice her reaction either way, as he soon took up the subject again.

 

“Not that my uncle really _is_ family, I mean, he doesn’t care about us anymore than _dad_ does – neither of them are ever here.”

 

His mouth was left half-open long after the last word had left his lips, shoulders slumped forward, and a small frown forming. Rey felt that now was her cue to say something comforting; something a friend should say in times like these. In her current state, however, the response she gave was not ideal.

 

“Maybe your uncle is just, like, _super_ -introverted,” she tried, offering him the wine bottle.

 

Ben turned to her, a wry half-grin on his face. Almost immediately, his shoulders started to shake with laughter. He happily took the bottle from her and had a big swig; as though the mention of his uncle had never happened.

 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Ben said, ruffling Rey’s hair as much as he could when it was held back in her usual three buns.

 

In an attempt to push him away, Rey wound up falling backwards onto the bonnet of the car with a _thunk_. It was cold and hard – and there was a dent that meant she had to shuffle over towards Ben a little or else her head would be lying uncomfortably on the edge of it. Her hazy perception of the world, through wine-tinted glasses, decided that it wasn’t too and getting up certainly wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, Rey could see the stars better. If all Ben could do was laugh at her lack of coordination, that was his problem.

 

The laughter soon stopped when Ben gave a slow yawn; Rey hardly paid him any mind. She was too busy frowning up at the pinpricked sky and trying to remember more constellations than _just_ Orion’s belt. She had loved stars when she was small, but now all the names were getting jumbled; _Columbriga… Lepus Major…Camelopogus…_

 

Ben slumped back to join Rey, resting his head on shoulder with an arm innocently draped over her stomach. Rey shifted a bit under the weight of him but soon got comfortable, her eyes blinking slower and heavier with each passing moment. Ben’s hair was soft on her neck, and his breathing warm and rhythmic over the exposed skin of Rey’s collarbone.

 

It occurred to Rey, as she lay nestled against the warmth of Ben’s body, that this whole situation would have seemed unutterably ludicrous to her just a few short months ago. She flicked through her memories, backtracked through conversations and actions she had taken that had led to this moment. It didn’t make much logical sense to her; there was a time when Rey would have needed very little excuse to punch Ben in the face and now he was steadily working his way into her inner circle of friends.

 

Rey sighed. “I could beat the shit out of you,” she said lazily.

 

“I know,” Ben answered happily.

 

Rey smiled to herself and reached an arm to lie over Ben’s where it crossed her stomach.

 

As they lay there, contentedly not saying anything, Rey became aware of Ben’s breathing; both where she could feel the warm waves of air breaking over her skin and where his chest pressed up against her arm then receded back only to return a moment later. It was soothing and Rey could feel the world draining away until all she could feel was Ben’s gentle breath on her skin.

 

“Hey!” A sharp, commanding voice shouted over the piles of junk. “Get down from there, you’re trespassing!”

 

Rey was up before Ben, but even she was too slow in her current state – the police officer, as she could now see the intruder was, was almost on them. The world tilted and spun in a nauseating way. Rey’s gut reaction was to run, get away, but instead she turned and shook Ben to get his attention; not immediately realising that he was already awake and very aware of their predicament.

 

The pair slid off the car and tried to make a run for it, but no sooner had they taken their first steps away from the car than Rey felt a tug on the back of her jumper – yanking her backwards. She yelped in annoyance, the sound causing Ben to spin back to where Rey now grappled with the cop.

 

The only explanation that occurred to Rey was that Plutt was so paranoid he actually left someone to guard the scrapyard overnight – and that person had seen them and called the cops. There was no way he had installed any kind of security system; that would involve paying actual money. His lackeys would do the job for extra perks.

 

Something in Rey told her that now wasn’t the time for such consideration, however.

 

“Good evening, officer!” Rey said glibly once she had twisted around and was being restrained at the wrist instead of the back of her neck. Not exactly progress but it certainly made Rey feel a bit better about the whole issue.

 

“Miss, are you aware that this is private property?” The blue-uniformed woman asked.

 

There was a voice in Rey’s head – probably the last shred of her sobriety – telling her not to open her mouth. The part of Rey that was in control of her actions for the time being, however, was not inclined to listen. “Course I do, I even know the git who owns it.”

 

A snigger from somewhere over her right shoulder told Rey that Ben wasn’t doing the smart thing and running, he was still there. _Idiot!_ Rey didn’t know if she meant that more for him or herself.

 

“Officer, there seems to have been some mistake,” Ben’s voice, thick with drink, rumbled through the night. “We’re sorry-”

 

“Very sorry,” Rey cut in quickly.

 

“-but we’ll just go and get out of your hair now, yeah?”

 

“I’m sorry, sir, but you and your girlfriend are going to have to come with us.”

 

Rey tensed, but it was obvious that was the end of the matter. Neither of them were in much state to fight back – Rey had at least enough common sense left to know that would make the situation ten-times worse. Ben started yelling.

 

“Get _off_ me! Get _OFF!_ ” He struggled and pulled away. “And leave her _alone!_ ”

 

Rey heard the _whirr-click_ of a pair of handcuffs and saw, in her peripheral vision, that there were at least three cops encircling them. At least it now made sense why Ben hadn’t run. Panic tinged the edges of her emotions like acid. She was distantly aware of the one that was marching her off to the car speaking to her – presumably reading Rey her rights. Being two-thirds drunk and one-third asleep, however, made it difficult to pay attention to whole sentences.

 

Just as they reached the car, Rey turned back to see that Ben was still resisting. He was shouting and swearing at the cops, something about it all being a mistake. At least he wasn’t threatening to hit anyone.

 

“Ben!” Rey called. Ben’s attention immediately switched to her, as though she had found his reset button; all aggravation evaporated. “Come on, don’t make it worse, please.”

 

After that, Ben allowed himself to be cuffed, though Rey hoped they wouldn’t still book him for resisting arrest. The pair were bundled into the back of a police car and driven off around turns and streets that Rey hadn’t a hope of recognising in the dark. Her ‘fight-or-flight’ instinct still hadn’t completely shut off, though, so Rey was still looking for a way out of this right up to the point when the cop who had arrested her slid the bars shut behind her.

She stood there with her hands wrapped around the bars as she watched the gaggle of blue uniforms corral Ben into the cell next door. Rey followed as best she could, using the frigid bars for support as she worked her way around the dank cell – and the other detainees – until she was gripping onto the bars separating her from Ben. In no time at all, Ben came over to her, leaning up against the bars on his side.

 

“Well, this’a fine mess, huh?” Ben drawled, a half-hearted grin plastered on his face.

 

Rey could only nod in return as she sank down to the floor and curled up with her knees pressed to her chest. She had done several less-than-legal things in her life, even ran into the odd cop, but she had never, ever been arrested for it. She had never been inside a jail.

 

Everything felt wrong, dirty somehow – even the scrapyard hadn’t felt this bad. Rey hated being caged, she hated feeling powerless, and she hated being looked at in the disdainful way everyone in her cell was looking at her. Nothing about this place felt safe. All of her stuff was boxed up and locked away from her and no one in the world knew where she was, no one but Ben.

 

At the fringes of her awareness, Rey heard Ben saying something comforting to her. She caught the word “alright” but it was difficult to make it all out clearly. There was a sudden warmth holding her arm that might have been Ben’s hand, but Rey was losing the will to remain attentive. Tired, drunk, and scared, Rey was more than willing to let the world fade away as she slipped into unconsciousness.

 

Rey wasn’t sure how much later it was, though the light still seemed to be mostly artificial, but at some point there was movement. The sound of the door slamming against its rollers made her surface from sleep just long enough to see them beckon at her. Almost everything else was a blur.

 

In her intoxicated half-sleep, Rey remembered only fleeting moments; an arm around her shoulders pulling her outside, leather seats, the flash of trees, the moon breaking through the clouds, and the warmth of Ben’s jacket pulled around her shoulders. If the murmurs of a conversation floated to her over the sound of the humming engine, Rey still had no idea what was being said.


	21. Hangover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be fair, they had this coming...
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments, each and every one makes my day :)

The first thing she felt was pain, then more pain, then the nauseating sensation of everything around her sloshing and bending like a funhouse mirror.

 

Rey groaned and tried to sit up. At least, that was what her mind was screaming for her body to do, but – somewhere in the agony and nausea – the message got lost and Rey continued to lie on the bed. The mattress was supple and the duvet was plush; even through her throbbing head, it was heaven. More to the point, however, it wasn’t hers.

 

The soft glow of mid-morning light shone around the edges of the thick, cream curtains – though to Rey, each shaft of light was a dagger to her eyes. Forcing herself to examine her surroundings and figure out where she was, Rey took in the tastefully eclectic furniture and tidy, off-white room. She frowned, quickly realising that only made her headache worse. There was something familiar about it all from the get-go; large carved armoire, matching nightstands on either side of the cast-iron double bed. It was incredibly frustrating to her, as though some vital piece of information was simply missing from her brain.

 

Turning her head slowly and gently to the side, Rey saw a glass of milky-yellow liquid on the table next to her side of the bed. As distasteful as the viscous concoction looked, something told Rey it would help. That elicited another long groan.

 

Rey mustered all her strength and willpower to push herself up on her elbows enough to grab the glass. It was cool to her touch, and the contents left a residue on the inside where it swilled from side to side in Rey’s wobbly grip. Any apprehension that may have niggled the back of her mind with the idea that drinking a strange substance in a place she didn’t fully recognise were quelled in favour of the chance of feeling better. Rey wrinkled her nose as she brought the glass to her lips, a faint and unpleasant odour wafting up from the drink. She knocked it back in one – she was sure she had seen it on some television program or another – and immediately regretted the decision. The drink was thick and slimy and tasted like day-old socks; Rey recoiled backwards as though, somehow, the taste was incapable of following her.

 

Much to her dismay, Rey soon discovered that it very much could, and the aftertaste was worse.

 

As the bitterness faded from her tongue, Rey felt the nausea receding along with it. Within moments, the worst of her hangover was becoming somewhat manageable – all that was left was the headache. She could handle that.

 

Rey shakily reached over to put the glass back on the side table and saw, like a makeshift coaster, a note. Carefully trading the one for the other, she held the crisp paper in her hands and focused on the rounded, flowing handwriting hiding behind the wet ring – marking where the distasteful anti-hangover drink had sat. It took a bit of blinking, but Rey soon found that the dancing, mocking lines of ink formed themselves into intelligible words. Those words being a note from Leia telling Rey to drink the drink and get some rest, she was welcome at the house anytime.

 

Flicking her eyes back up to the room around her, Rey realised exactly where she was and why it had seemed like something was missing. This was the Organa-Solo mansion and there _was_ something missing; festive decorations. The big winter party being the last time she was there. At least Rey was somewhere safe and, she assumed, so was Ben. That thought filled her with a swelling sense of relief.

 

What was less relieving was the way her memories of the night before jumped and jumbled around in Rey’s head. She needed coffee – badly. Unsure of how to go about procuring such a thing at a time like this, however, meant that cold water would have to do for now.

 

Carefully, Rey swung her legs out over the side of the bed and sat up fully – a hand shooting up to hold her head as the motion proved to be a touch too sudden for her throbbing cranium. Once the waves of pain had calmed back down to little more than ripples, Rey continued in her upward endeavours. She pushed herself steadily up; holding onto whatever she could reach for support – first the bed-side table, then the bedframe. Once standing, her next mission was to reach the bathroom.

 

Rey was still dressed in her jeans and t-shirt from the night before, her grey-blue jumper hung off a peg on the back of her door, and her phone and keys were on the table by the bed – the last two items being immediately slipped into Rey’s pocket. This all made things a lot easier; all Rey needed to do was wash her face, grab her jumper, and leave. No need to be a burden. Yes, Leia had _said_ she was welcome to stay as long as she needed, but it could hardly be a convenience to have one more mouth to feed clogging up the place. No, Rey wanted to be out of Leia’s hair as soon as humanly possible. That would, however, involve Rey letting go of the metal frame at the bottom of the guest bed.

 

Taking a deep breath, Rey launched herself away from the bed, took two wobbly steps, and fell against the doorframe of the modest en-suite. Despite the sensation in her head that was, in turns, prickly and fuzzy, Rey decided to take this as progress.

 

She was able to lean heavily on the divinely cool countertop as she reached for the cold tap. Before her fingers touched the chrome handle, however, Rey glanced up at the mirror over the sink. That was a mistake. Someone had taken her light dusting of make-up off – thank goodness – bad pores were something Rey did _not_ need today. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was her hair. The buns at the back of her head had been released, but even loose, Rey’s hair stuck out at bizarre angles from her face. A hurried survey of the room told her that there wasn’t a comb in sight and Rey resolved to try and pull her hair back into a French braid. It seemed to do the trick, though a wash would be in her future the moment she got back to her apartment. One or two splashes of freezing water on her face later, and Rey felt she was able to stumble outside.

 

The icy drops were still drying in their twisting lines across Rey’s skin by the time she was grabbing her jumper off the back of the door and disappearing out onto the landing. The more accustomed she became to being awake – with her eyes open – the easier moving quickly became; relatively. Rey wasn’t up to dashing around, but she was down the stairs in no time.

 

The thought did occur to her that maybe she should say goodbye to Ben. That thought was quickly chased by a memory Rey had of Ben in the early morning after a late night; suffice it to say that he was _not_ a morning person. Having no wish to reprise the episode, she continued padding around the house, looking for someone who could take her back into town; or at least tell her what had happened to her shoes. Rey made a mental note to text Ben later.

 

On her unofficial tour of the ground floor of the vast house, memories trickling through her mind, Rey eventually wound up at the back door again. The same back door she knew exited onto the grassy slope and tree-encircled lake beyond. The same back door that was now open and letting a brisk spring breeze gently stir the long, wispy curtains either side of the glass. For lack of anywhere else to try, Rey slipped outside – first tugging on her jumper and borrowing a pair of large, black boots that were sat by the door. Shoving the laces into the boots along with her feet, Rey went out to squint against the sunlight and see if Leia was anywhere in sight.

 

The outside world was bright and for a second, Rey wondered if she had stepped out onto the Sun. Only the faint mist of rain whispering over her skin disturbed the illusion. Pale grey clouds stretched thinly over most of the sky, only a small break allowed for the blinding sunlight to burst through and accost Rey. Her headache pounded in time with her pulse for the sluggish seconds it took for her tired eyes to adjust to the light.

 

Rey scanned over the damp vista before her, searching for signs of life. Everything was muffled in the drizzle, though the variety of greens that populated the garden had never looked so lush and verdant. Everything else, even the squat greenhouse, seemed to shrink back in the face of it. The lawn had become a carpet of thick fronds that nibbled at the edges of the cobblestone path, the shrubs and hedges took on a new richness of colour as the sunlight reflected off their slick leaves; even the waving trees which poked up over the ridge to the left glistened in their early-morning shower. Rey caught herself stopping and gazing about in wonder at the scene of natural beauty.

 

Only one thing interrupted Rey’s idyllic view; a figure, sat just where the grass dipped down to the lake, hunched over on a folding chair and swathed in a dun-brown coat. A wide, blue umbrella protecting everything from the weather. In front of this person was an easel. Although Rey couldn’t quite see the sense of sitting out in the rain and painting – no matter how light the rain – she made her way over there.

 

When Rey was within a few feet of Leia – she had assumed it _was_ Leia – she heard a jolly, unfamiliar tune being hummed. Rey continued to approach, ducking under the lip of the umbrella, the rain pattering overhead. She peered around a coat-covered shoulder to see what exactly was going on the canvas; it seemed little more than splodges of greyish greens to her.

 

“Your mother’s in her garden,” came a rough, masculine voice.

 

Rey started backwards and jostled the umbrella – sending sudden sprays of cold water flying in all directions. Some even splashed down the back of Rey’s t-shirt and ran icy fingers down her spine. The movement had the inadvertent – though utterly inevitable – effect of rousing the painter from his art.

 

He turned and regarded Rey with a kind of resolute exasperation; his weathered features all set in hard lines, softened only by a short beard, and his eyes looking about as tired as Rey felt. Regardless, he certainly _wasn’t_ Leia.

 

“Oh. You’re not Ben,” the man stated the fact plainly. His mouth pinched up in a slight smirk. “Sorry, heard the boots on the grass,” he pointed a chewed wooden paintbrush down at Rey’s borrowed footwear, “assumed you were my nephew.”

 

His point made, Ben’s uncle – Rey was wracking her brains trying to remember his name – turned back to his painting. Rey had never felt so much like she was intruding as she did in that moment; facing the expanse of dun-brown back. She barely had time for the awkwardness to settle enough that she felt compelled to leave before the man sighed heavily and turned again to face Rey.

 

“I’m Luke, by the way – Leia’s brother, don’t know if she told you I was here,” he said gently.

 

“I’m-“ Rey politely cleared her throat, her voice still husky from the night before. “I’m Rey. Ben’s friend. He might have mentioned you, um, last night.”

 

“Can’t remember, huh?” Luke asked with a chuckle in his voice, watery-blue eyes sparking briefly to life. He returned to his painting, but Rey no longer felt the need to make herself scarce. “Han, Leia and I used to have nights like those – when we were a _lot_ younger, though.”

 

Rey almost asked about those nights; about Han and Leia. She wanted to know more about her friend’s background – more than just a fancy house and a collection of odd family friends. She soon thought better of it, however. From what she knew of Ben, he would rather tell her himself. Actually, thinking about it, he would probably rather she didn’t know at all.

 

“I can remember,” _mostly_ , “it’s just that the order of events is a bit… uncertain.”

 

“Well, I can only help with the last bit: you two got arrested for trespassing and Ben called his mom.” Luke’s tone was casual as he kept flicking his brush over the canvas. If Rey didn’t know any better, she might say that the puddles of colour were actually starting to have more definition.

 

“Shit.”

 

A thousand and one things went through Rey’s mind in that moment, starting with _Plutt hates me_. As soon as he found out she was involved, there was a good chance things would get a whole lot worse for her – and Ben. Guilt bubbled up in her chest that she had gotten her friend involved in all this mess. Then again, he hadn’t exactly stopped her. Rey’s spiralling thoughts were halted at the sound of Luke’s calming voice.

 

“Don’t worry, I doubt he’ll press charges.” Luke switched brushes and gathered some paint up off the dinner plate sized palette hooked on his thumb. “Unkar Plutt’s a grump but he _hates_ lawyers.”

 

“You know Plutt?” Rey frowned, for once looking more at the grey back of Luke’s head than the steadily evolving canvas.

 

“Yeah, a little. Back in the days when that scrapyard of his was still known as Niima Parts – that was a while ago, but I doubt that bastard has changed much. Change wasn’t really his thing.”

 

Feeling much calmer from Luke’s assurances, Rey decided she could hang around. Luke certainly didn’t seem to mind. Rey watched as his brush flitted this way or that; a tree, a rock, a shaft of brilliant light. It all came together to the tune of his apparently made-up melody. Rey felt transfixed, her earlier need to get back home completely forgotten. Every so often, the old man would turn to see if his audience was still there, and smile to see that she was.

 

It didn’t take long for Rey to notice that the landscape Luke was painting was _not_ the landscape at which they were looking. There were similarities, of course; the grass in the foreground sloped away from the viewer, giving way to vivacious pine trees springing up from the earth just like the garden. Then, instead of being swallowed up by the trees, the land in Luke’s painting soared back up into a hill – creating the impression of a small dell. Beyond that, in the far distance, Luke had painted a set of three towering grey mountains; their jagged peaks standing defiant against the grey-blue sky. Regardless of how much Ben might complain about his uncle, there was no denying the man had talent.

 

“Why do you paint?” Rey asked softly, not wanting to disrupt the atmosphere.

 

Luke gave her a fleeting, over-the-shoulder smile. “Because I found myself at a point in my life where I needed to be happy – this makes me happy.”

 

The bare and simple honesty of his statement made Rey smile; a warmth towards the man making her heart glow. It also made her ache for something so simple herself. The idea of just doing something to make her happy rather than to make ends meet was wonderful – she would pack her bags and leave to see the world in an instant.

 

“Of course,” Luke spoke again as he dabbed a lighter green sparingly over his trees to emulate the way they shimmered in the haze of rain. “If I happen to sell some of them on the side, so much the better.” He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. “There’s something missing, I can feel it. What do you think?”

 

Rey was caught staring back and forth between Luke and the painting; the former watching her patiently. She had no idea what was missing. The painting looked fine. Maybe it was a little off but Rey hadn’t a clue what to suggest.

 

“I’m not really that creative, I wouldn’t want to ruin it.” Rey threw her hands up in submission and shuffled backwards slightly.

 

“Everyone has a little bit of creative in them,” Luke smiled with a mischievous wink. “And that’s all you need, really.”

 

Rey chewed her lip, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. “I’m more of a mechanic than an artsy person. Oh, wait, I can show you!”

 

Her hand dove into her pocket, and Rey fished out her phone. Within moments, she had tapped her way to the photos she took of the little robots she had made out of the parts she took from Plutt’s. Given the circumstances, Rey figured it would probably be best _not_ to mention that particular aspect of her projects to Luke. Once she had the one she wanted – a three-armed object that Rey used to pick up stuff off her floor – she handed the phone to Luke. She tapped the play icon to show him the first video she ever took of it collecting various odd wires Rey had left out for it to find. Luke watched it avidly, handing the phone back when it was over.

 

“So, this is what you do, huh?”

 

“I do – did – _can_ , but I don’t do much of it now.” She offered a wistful smile. “Can’t get the parts; can’t make the robots. It’s fine, really, I made them back when I worked at Plutt’s and wanted to be a mechanic.”

 

Luke whistled. “You used to _work_ for that guy? Yikes.” Rey would swear the old man looked impressed. Evidently he really _had_ known Rey’s erstwhile employer. “What about now?”

 

“I work at _Maz’s_ ; saving up to go on a trip somewhere.” Rey folded her arms around her middle, the chill in the air getting close to pushing her back indoors. “Don’t know where yet.”

 

“And bartending, _that’s_ what you want to do now?”

 

Rey was starting to understand why Ben might have issues with the guy. She was fairly sure Luke was asking in genuine interest, but it came off a little judgmental from where Rey was standing. Sure, saying that she had wanted to be a mechanic, then gave it up for a bartending job does sound – on the face of it – like Rey had gone off the rails a little, that maybe she needed to go for something and really commit. That wasn’t how she felt about the situation at all. Being at Plutt’s made her think that only by being a mechanic would she ever get anywhere – the mechanics got the bigger pay-checks and the promotions. Scrappers like her were the bottom of the food-chain; even if she was the best at the job.

 

After Plutt fired her, Rey got some much-needed perspective on the situation. Yes, she enjoyed doing things with her hands rather than sitting behind a desk all day, but that didn’t mean she _had_ to be a mechanic. Rey was also starting to think that this example of her lack of creativity wasn’t the best idea – not when it meant an examination of her life choices.

 

“Well… I enjoy it, and it’s something to do while I – you know – figure things out.” Rey was hyper-aware of how frequently she shifted from one foot to the other while she spoke; explanations had never been her thing.

 

“Huh.” Luke nodded, satisfied with her answer, apparently, and went back to pulling a frustrated expression at his painting.

 

Rey hesitated a moment, not sure if he was going to say anything else, then decided to go find Leia. It was just as she left the shelter of the umbrella and stepped into the light shower of chilling rain that Rey heard Luke turn in his chair again. She spun on her heel to see his line-ringed eyes gazing seriously at her.

 

“You know, that bot you made involved more than just technical know-how. There is creativity in you yet, Rey.”

 

Only the sound of the rain tapping softly on the blue umbrella was all that broke the silence. Rey stared at Luke, feeling the happy glow in her chest return. Maybe he wasn’t so bad; a bit nosey, but not bad. They exchanged smiles and Luke turned again to face the misbehaving painting.

 

Taking an uncertain step forward, Rey pointed to an area of canvas. “Maybe another tree at the front, there on the left?”

 

Both of Luke’s hands dropped to rest on his knees and he frowned at the space Rey had indicated. His shoulders started to shake before Rey heard his gentle chuckles. Luke half-turned his head towards Rey.

 

“Go off and make your own world, Rey.” With that, he daubed in a tree on the right, so close it was effectively framing the whole scene. “Make yourself happy.”

 

Rey rolled her eyes – not in any kind of exasperation at the fact that Luke had deliberately ignored the opinion for which he had asked, but as one accepts the friendly eccentricities of friends. It was something she found herself doing most frequently around Poe and Jess.

 

Backing out from under the waterproof canopy, Rey stumbled into someone. She turned quickly, her hands out for balance, a string of apologies already on her tongue. Leia’s sunny smile greeted her.

 

“No worries, Rey, it’s quite alright. I’m glad to see you’re up and about – how’s the head?” One of Leia’s florally-gloved hands gripped Rey at the elbow to stop the younger woman from falling over. Rey had no problem with that.

 

Leia was dressed in a grey-green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and a pair of similarly-coloured trousers. Her boots were a camel-brown and her sleeveless jacket a dark aubergine. The silky strands of her warm-grey hair were piled up on her head in a way that made it impossible to see how they stayed in place. Rey could almost believe that it was held there by magic, just like how the mist of raindrops that clung to Leia’s hair somehow seemed to transform into little sparkling diamonds. Leia smelled of rain and freshly-dug earth – it reminded Rey of the way Ben smelled.

 

“Oh, it’s much better now, thanks for the pick-me-up.” That seemed the politest term for the sickening drink Rey had hastily gulped down that morning. At least it had had the desired effect.

 

“It’s just a little something I figured out in college – came in _real_ handy, let me tell you!” Leia winked. “It’s great to hear you’re feeling better. Well, I’m going to head in and make waffles – are waffles okay with you, Rey?” The woman’s soft brown eyes looked expectantly up at Rey.

 

 _Actually, I was thinking I would leave soon_.

 

“Sure, waffles sound great,” Rey heard herself say. Going home and not putting Leia out any more than absolutely necessary would just have to wait, it seemed. It wasn’t like Rey had her own shoes back yet and besides, her stomach had already grumbled its assent to the plan.

 

“Excellent!” Leia beamed and began pulling off her floral purple gardening gloves. “Oh, and would you mind running up to see if Ben is up yet?”

 

“No problem!” Rey called as Leia backed up towards the house.

 

She watched her hostess disappear through the glass doors with the sinking feeling that this morning had _not_ gone as planned. Neither had the night before, if she was honest. Leia didn’t seem too ruffled by the situation either way and Rey wasn’t about to complain.

 

“Good choice,” Luke muttered behind her; his standing presence just by Rey’s shoulder having gone unnoticed by the young woman. “For a second there, I thought you were going to take off – Leia would’ve hated that.”

 

Rey spun around in surprise to look at Luke – he only grinned wryly back.

 

“She likes her guests to feel at home here; hates the idea of people _just passing through_.”

 

There was something in Luke’s eyes then, a kind of sadness and nostalgia mingled together. For a beat, Rey wondered what it was, then it hit her – _Han_. Though Rey didn’t know him any better than what Ben and Poe had told her, his absence was obviously keenly felt about the house. Rey wondered if that was why Luke was visiting his sister; to keep her company.

 

Without further explanation, Luke put an arm around Rey’s shoulders and steered her back towards the house. He left his painting under the safety of the blue umbrella without even the slightest look back.

 

Rey split off from Luke in the foyer; he went towards the kitchen while Rey, now back in just her socks, hopped up the stairs. The delicious smell of batter and maple syrup and burnt waffles followed her around the house – almost all the way across the landing to Ben’s room. Rey remembered which one – the door at the very end on the left. She stood hesitantly outside it before reaching out to knock softly on the wood.

 

A grunt from within admitted Rey’s entrance. The young woman smiled and shook her head before turning the handle and sneaking inside.

 

The room was even darker than it had been when Rey was there for the party, not even the lamp was on, only the tiniest glow from outside managed to evade the heavy curtains. It was barely enough, but Rey was able to make out the lines of the infamous cello, a music stand, and the bed. As she focused, Rey could even just about see the folds of the duvet where it fell over Ben’s body.

 

“Please close the door,” came his husky plea from the shadows.

 

Rey acquiesced, then tiptoed over to the side of the bed. The nearer she got, the easier it became for her to make out where Ben’s arms and legs were; eventually, she could even see parts of his face. She perched by his side, both hands folded in her lap. Ben shuffled a fraction to the side so that she wouldn’t fall off, but otherwise paid her no mind – an arm flopped over his face, presumably so that not even the faintest trickles of light could reach him.

 

“I have a _killer_ headache,” Ben groaned.

 

As soon as he said that, Rey started looking around for a glass of Leia’s anti-hangover drink. Unlike the guest room next door, Ben didn’t have a small table next to his bed. Instead, there was a bookshelf – packed full of books, by the looks of it. On the shelf nearest to bed-height was a gap into which Ben had hoarded his phone, wallet, keys, and anything else he kept in his pockets. There was also a glass filled with a viscous liquid that Rey could only assume was the same thing Leia had given her, though its colour looked significantly greyer in the dim lighting. Rey carefully stretched out her hand in the dark and picked it up.

 

“Here, this will help.” She offered him the glass, but Ben’s bare arm shot out to push her back away; revealing his semi-lit face in the process.

 

Where their skin touched, Rey felt the sting of the tiniest static shock. She gasped and pulled away, sloshing, though – thankfully – not spilling the drink. If Ben felt anything, he didn’t show it.

 

“That is my mother’s disgusting potion,” Ben wrinkled his nose, “and there is nothing you can do to make me drink it.” The pale light sketched out the lopsided smile on Ben’s face. Rey wasn’t about to be swayed that easily.

 

“Come on, I drank mine, and I feel _way_ better.” She placed it directly into his hand this time; holding Ben’s fingers around the glass for him. “You just have to take it in one go.”

 

Rey was careful not to sound too chipper – or else Ben might have realised that she was glossing over the truth about the anti-hangover potion. It really was disgusting. She wasn’t wrong about it working, though, and Ben must have known that.

 

He sluggishly pushed himself up on his elbows, much like how Rey had earlier, and swallowed the drink in one. Judging by the half-lit grimace that overtook Ben’s face, his tasted just as bad as hers. Groaning, he flopped back onto his pillow. Rey easily lifted the now-empty glass out of his hand and returned it to roughly where she thought it was before.

 

“You traitor,” he growled softly. “You conspired with my mother against me – my own _mother!_ Have you no shame?”

 

“None,” Rey answered simply, unable to hold back the smile from her lips. “It was for your own good.”

 

Rey sat there quietly, watching his chest rise and fall. It was very calming. Her gaze drifted up Ben’s torso, where his pale skin poked out from the dark duvet, to his face; a lock of black hair had fallen over his eyes. On impulse, Rey reached out a hand and gently pushed the soft waves to one side. No sooner had Rey’s hand touched his skin than Ben tenderly wrapped his fingers around her wrist. His hair now out of his face, Rey could see plainly that Ben was staring right at her.

 

He looked surprised, and Rey couldn’t blame him – she hadn’t really thought about what she was doing, just did it. She let her hand rest on the side of Ben’s cheek, his fingers warm on her rain-chilled skin. Rey looked at him, watched the way his mouth fell open and how his velvety black eyes darted around her face. It wasn’t until then that Rey realised she had been steadily leaning forward this whole time and her face was hovering mere inches from Ben’s. The air in the room suddenly felt very warm.

 

Ben suddenly cleared his throat. “Well, uh, it worked… I feel much better now.”

 

Rey pulled back as though she felt another static shock, withdrawing her hand to her side. Ben’s fingers curled in the absence left by her wrist. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but Ben’s actions had left Rey feeling a little colder. So much so that she missed the hint of regret that flashed over his features.

 

“Good, great, excellent.” Rey stopped herself before she got too carried away with the adjectives. “I’m glad, I mean.” She needed a conversation topic: anything rather than dwell on the awkwardness that wormed its way around her head. “Um, I met your uncle – the one who paints – he seems nice.”

 

 _Because_ that _didn’t sound forced at all_.

 

Ben smirked. His hand was still resting by his shoulder. “I’ve only got the one. Though I’m surprised you got a word out of him, he’s not much of a people-person these days.”

 

Rey didn’t even know what she was worried about; they were friends, friends were sometimes affectionate towards each other. Touching Ben’s face didn’t mean anything. She sometimes kissed her other friends’ faces. She once kissed _Ben_ on his cheek. Somehow, this felt different. Perhaps it was to do with their planned April Fool’s prank; pretending to date. Rey forced herself to put it out of her head, not worry about it, and focus on the conversation at hand – no matter how much of an obvious distraction tactic it was.

 

“We were talking about art.” Rey dropped her gaze from Ben’s face to her own hands, tangled together in her lap; her fingers threading and un-threading with each other. “He thinks my robots are creative.” The smile that accompanied her words was genuine and Rey did nothing to stop it.

 

Looking back to Ben, Rey saw that he was smiling too.

 

“Huh.” Ben moved his arm at last, stretching it out so that his curled fingers came to rest against Rey’s leg. The lazy smile had yet to leave his lips. “You gonna be an artist then?”

 

In all honesty, Rey rather liked the idea that her hobby could be seen as artistic in some way. She had never been very artsy at school – drawing pretty pictures just wasn’t in her skillset. If she could build her own aesthetic – _make your own world, Rey_ – with gears and wires, then that suited her just fine. If Ben liked the idea too, well, then that was just a bonus.

 

Whether or not she would pursue it as an actual career, though, that was a question for another day.

 

“You know,” _you really do deserve the crown for queen of awkward segues, Rey_. “Your mum is making waffles downstairs, and, uh, she actually sent me up to see if you were conscious enough for them?”

 

“She’s putting premade ones in the toaster, you mean?” Ben scoffed good-naturedly. He didn’t draw any attention to the fact that Rey had just avoided his question, though the glimmer in his eyes told Rey that he _had_ noticed. “My mom can’t cook – not even using a waffle-iron.”

 

“Well, I smelled burning down there, so she _might_ be attempting to use the waffle-iron.”

 

A long groan from Ben was all the response Rey got, but it was enough to make her chuckle.

 

She let her hand fall down by her side; Rey’s curled fingers nestled loosely in Ben’s warm ones. Ben’s dark eyes darted down to their touching hands. His thumb twitched, but didn’t move. Rey turned her hand just enough that she could squeeze a couple of Ben’s fingers.

 

“Come on, Ben, come downstairs,” Rey asked gently.

 

“How about no?” He smirked, closing his eyes and looking for all the world like he was going to fall back asleep.

 

That was _not_ happening.

 

“Hey!” Rey shoved playfully against Ben’s side; making him scowl up at her. “What am I going to tell Leia?”

 

Ben rolled his eyes. “Murdered by pirates is good.”

 

With that, Ben shifted over onto his side; turning his back to Rey and taking away the comforting warmth of his hand. His body melted into the shadow and Rey could only just make out where his freckled shoulder crested into the dull, grey light. It was just enough, though.

 

“Ben!” Rey leant forward and grabbed Ben’s shoulder, pulling him back to face her. “She _did_ get us out of jail, after all.”

 

As he _thumped_ back onto the flat of his back, Ben groaned again. This time, he drew his lips thin and raised his eyebrows at Rey. At least, that was what it looked like he did – the darkness made the finer points of his expression difficult to read.

 

“Alright, alright, I’ll be down.” Ben threw his hands up in submission. “Just give me a sec to change, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Rey nodded once, satisfied that she had succeeded.

 

“Now _out!_ ”

 

Laughing softly, Rey let Ben push her off the bed and towards the door. She slipped back outside into the comparatively blinding light of the landing corridor. From there, Rey could hear some distant metallic banging coming from the kitchen with the odd curse word thrown in for flavour.

 

Rey stood on the landing, leaning on the banister rail and running her fingers over the smooth, unpainted wood. She smiled when she heard Leia yell from the kitchen again. Her thoughts were, however, primarily occupied with the man for whom she was now waiting.

 

No matter how she tried to turn away from it, Rey kept returning to the tingling feeling in her fingers and the warmth of Ben’s skin. This was a problem she had never had with either Finn or Poe. They were her friends, they were always affectionately touching – as friends. Rey and Ben were no different.

 

The sound of the door behind her swinging open jolted Rey from her thoughts. She turned to see Ben squinting in the light, nothing but darkness behind him. He almost looked like he was formed out of it. Ben had pulled on soft, loose dark-grey sweatpants and a pale blue t-shirt that hung freely off his shoulders. His feet were bare and his messy, dark hair was in the process of being roughly pushed back by his hand.

 

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Ben took one look at Rey and smiled.

 

Maybe sticking around for breakfast wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	22. Fools and Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!!

For once, the sky outside was brilliantly bright and blue; Rey was almost expecting a plane to fly through the sky with a sign saying “April Fools” on it with a massive raincloud looming behind. If the weather wanted to be congenial, however, she wouldn’t be the one to complain.

  


She wandered upstairs to Ben’s apartment and knocked three times with her knuckle. Even more of the flaky blue paint floated down towards her sock-covered feet. Really, it was a wonder the whole place was still standing given the level of apathy the landlord clearly had for it. Rey shifted from one leg to the other as she waited.

  


There was a large part of her that thought this whole idea completely ridiculous. Whoever heard of pretending to date as an April Fool’s prank? Then again, they were drunk when they – or, more accurately, Ben – came up with it, so it shouldn’t surprise her. Still, Rey stood patiently outside Ben’s door in sand-coloured cotton slacks and a voluminous, cream knitted jumper; ready to come up with outlandish ways to convince her friends that she and Ben were an item.

  


In the brief pause before the door swept open to reveal Ben holding out a huge mug of caramel-nutmeg coffee, Rey’s thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the odd little _moment_ there had been back at the mansion. When both Rey and Ben were massively hungover. After getting drunk and being arrested the night before.

  


A lot had happened since then, and Rey hadn’t given too much thought to it. She had been busy constructing a kinetic sculpture for the exhibition that Luke’s gallery-owning, art dealer friend – Lando Calrissian – was putting together. That had eaten up most of her spare time _not_ spent working double shifts for Maz and what was left, Rey gave over to sleeping. All in all, Rey’s life had gone from pleasantly busy to downright hectic, and it left no space in her brain to unravel her own emotions. Ben had had to threaten her with enforced relaxation to get her to agree to taking the day out to spend with him on their prank.

  


_On impulse, Rey reached out a hand and gently pushed the soft waves to one side. No sooner had Rey’s hand touched his skin than Ben tenderly wrapped his fingers around her wrist. His hair now out of his face, Rey could see plainly that Ben was staring right at her._

  


Whatever had come over her in that instant, Rey wasn’t sure; it was a sudden loss of control. Her hand just moved, and then they were touching. Rey remembered Ben’s skin felt warm. The smile that softly curled her lips happened all on its own. _He always feels warm._

  


_Rey looked at him, watched the way his mouth fell open and how his velvety black eyes darted around her face. It wasn’t until then that Rey realised she had been steadily leaning forward this whole time and her face was hovering mere inches from Ben’s. The air in the room suddenly felt very warm._

  


She couldn’t say what she had been intending to do, with her hand resting there on Ben’s cheek. No matter how many times Rey played the scene over in her mind, it seemed strange to her; like it all happened to some other Rey. Some other Rey who had confusing feelings that brushed past her like feathers – too light to be anything substantial, but just enough for her to know there had been something there. No matter how fleeting.

  


_Rey pulled back as though she felt another static shock._

  


Rey jumped when the door opened suddenly – the _crack_ of its hinges catapulting her heart into her throat. It was only when she saw Ben’s wide-eyed expression on the other side of the coffee mug that Rey realised quite how dramatic her reaction had been.

  


“You okay?” Ben frowned.

  


“Yeah,” Rey answered, much too quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” She gingerly took the steaming coffee out of Ben’s hands, careful not to burn her fingers off.

  


“Okay. You coming in?” Ben angled his body sideways in the doorway to clear a path into the apartment.

  


“Yeah, sure, of course.”

  


Rey shuffled in, carefully, though not obviously, keeping a space between herself and Ben. It was a distance she had been maintaining – either deliberately or subconsciously – ever since the day she had woken up, hungover, in his mother’s house. No static shocks would distract Rey anymore.

  


The curtains that usually covered the large window to the right of Ben’s main room had been thrown open to cast a sunny glow over everything. The room, for once, was strangely at odds with the appearance of its occupant. The drums and amps still took centre-stage, with the armchair and assortment of side-tables pushed to the edges of the room. The floor was riddled with vine-like cables almost all the way to the three-seater facing the window. It was the same rock-and-roll mess to which Rey had grown accustomed. Ben, however, was not.

  


He hadn’t ditched the all-black colour scheme, but instead of a worn-out t-shirt and the jeans with the tear at the bottom, Ben had found a button-up shirt and what looked like freshly-washed jeans – completely tear-free. In fact, if Rey didn’t know better, she would have sworn the shirt was ironed. His hair was in its usual flawless state that indicated Ben was prepared to go into the outside world and his cocky smirk let Rey know that he had noticed the way she was looking at him.

  


“See something you like?” Ben waggled his eyebrows.

  


In that moment, Rey was almost back at the point she had been all those months ago where she wanted nothing more than to slap that smirk right off his face. _Alternatively, there are_ other _ways of getting that smirk off his face…_

  


Rey spun around – ostensibly heading for the sofa – to hide her blushing cheeks. She walked slowly towards her destination; each footfall thought about and then carefully placed. All while praying that her face would cool off on its own.

  


“No, just wasn’t sure I’d come to the right apartment.” Feeling that the worst of the danger had passed, Rey risked facing Ben as she plopped down on the sofa. “Didn’t know anything that spiffed-up belonged in this place.” She gave the room a cursory, disdainful glance to drive home her point before locking eyes with Ben – who now looked about as shocked as possible – and shooting him a grin of her own.

  


“Ha ha, very funny.” He closed the distance between them in two strides, collapsing down on the sofa beside Rey. “I just thought it might be a little more convincing if I looked like I gave a damn about my appearance, y’know, for, um, you.”

  


It was only a second, less than that really, but Rey could have sworn she saw a glimmer of something genuine in those dark eyes of his. She banished the thought quickly; it was just her confused brain reading something into nothing. Rey rolled her eyes – as much at herself as at Ben.

  


“Yeah, because you _never_ take longer than ten minutes on your hair when you’re going out to do a show.” To be fair, he had managed to get it down to eleven and a half minutes once. He also nearly busted right through his drumskins that night.

  


“I’m in the public eye!”

  


“You’re in a helmet!”

  


They both froze, staring at each other for a moment. It didn’t last long. Rey sputtered and collapsed into giggles – finding it funnier the longer she laughed – and no matter how much Ben told her _it wasn’t that funny_ , she couldn’t stop. Not until her eyes started tearing up. By that point, even Ben was chuckling.

  


“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Rey’s apologies came out amid post-laughing-fit breath loss. “Okay, where were we?”

  


“Plans for today?” Ben raised an eyebrow.

  


Not for the first time, Rey wondered why they were doing this. Why pretend to be dating your friend for April Fool’s Day? It wasn’t much of a prank. Not like telling someone their house was on fire or some public figure got married in secret. It was more mundane, in a way, more outlandish in others. Either way, it was going to be a trick to sell – given that the only people they were trying to fool were Finn, Poe, and Jess. Hux and Phasma had been on the preliminary guest list, but Ben had assured Rey that she did _not_ want to engage a prank-war with either of them. The result was, that they – mostly Rey – were going to have to convince the friends Rey had once told that she couldn’t stand Ben Solo, that she was now dating him, and had been for weeks. _Perfect_.

  


Rey leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “Right, so, I was thinking…”

  


  


The first couple of hours had been the weirdest – the most surreal. Rey wasn’t used to it and she didn’t know how to acclimatise. Even if it _was_ part of _her_ plan – a fact of which Ben would happily remind her with a smug look. She could hardly argue with him there. Not that any of that diluted the cold, hard, facts.

  


Ben and Rey were walking through the park – with Finn, Poe, and Jess – holding hands.

  


The play of light through the wind-rustled trees made the wide dirt path look like it was shimmering. Patterns of shade in varying degrees of darkness speckled the bubble of space around them. Most of the trees were a tangle of leafless, upended broomsticks, but some were still sporting their waving foliage. Beyond the trees, the path would soon open up to a wide field, then curve around and down towards the river – this being the group’s intended destination.

  


Ben’s hand felt warm in Rey’s palm, his fingers threaded through hers. It was a strange contrast with how cold her other hand felt; even stuffed in her pocket, the sharp breeze got to it. The hand of hers that Ben was holding onto, however, was almost uncomfortably warm, despite being out in the open. Ben had taken it a few blocks back, when they stood on the corner by the patisserie and delivered the big news. In that time, Rey couldn’t help but feel that they could have let go, but that might ruin the illusion – Finn and Poe had been holding hands all that time, after all. At least, Rey couldn’t remember them letting go.

  


They had taken it rather well – the news. The news that Ben and Rey were dating, that is. Rey hadn’t anticipated that. Finn and Poe, both, were shocked; Jess seemed to think it was obvious. In fact, she seemed over the moon about it. The phrase _at bloody last_ might have been used a few times.

  


_That_ comment had only been added to the list of things Rey was mulling over obsessively on their way down to the river. Even Ben had looked surprised when Jess said it. _Do we really look like a pair? An odd pair, maybe, but a_ pair _, pair?_

  


Between the three of them, Poe, Finn, and Jess had gone through all the basic questions in under a minute – or so it felt. Luckily, Rey had schooled Ben in how to handle this part, so he wasn’t overwhelmed. Rey loved her friends, but they could be a little in-your-face at times. Times like when their best friend announces she’s dating the guy who, until relatively recently, she had described as the devil incarnate.

  


“Who asked who?” Poe had asked, eyes popping out of his head as his gaze darted between the two of them.

  


“ _Now, with every question they ask-”_

  


“ _They won’t ask questions, Rey,” Ben scoffed._

  


“ _Yes, they will. Now, when questions are asked, we stick as closely to the truth as possible, okay?” Rey had a sip of scalding coffee. “If we can, tell the actual truth.”_

  


Because of Rey’s earlier advice, Ben had chuckled and answered easily. “I did, Valentine’s Day.”

  


That had received a high-pitched squeal from Jess that momentarily dislodged Ben’s collected façade. Rey couldn’t blame him for that one; even Finn had jumped. With one answer, however, came the next question.

  


“Where was your first date?”

  


“ _Just around the corner.”_

  


“Have you kissed yet?”

  


“ _Not on the lips, no.”_

  


“Why keep it a secret?”

  


“ _We wanted to be sure.”_

  


Ben never said what it was they were waiting to be sure about, but Rey knew her friends’ over-eager imaginations could fill in the blanks. As could she.

  


Rey had felt, as she was watching Ben answer the rapid-fire questions with ease – pausing every-so-often to let Rey chip in – that of all the words he used, _sure_ had carried the most weight. It had practically fallen from his lips, fully formed and tumbled down to shatter on the ground; and Rey was the only one who saw it. That was the first time that day that Rey wasn’t actually so sure of what exactly they were doing, because pranks usually felt much more counterfeit than this.

  


The party of five had since made their way down to the water’s edge; the river swiftly weaving between the screaming, splashing children and soaking-wet dogs. This had also been Rey’s idea. They would all go down to the park river, take their shoes and socks off, roll up their jeans, and paddle about in the water. It was a low-pressure, stress-free location; nothing could be better.

  


The sunlight was as patchy on the dusty, brown riverbank as it was on the path further up the hill. There were less evergreens near the water, so the shadow patterns were limited to scratchy lines resembling unravelling woven cloth. The trees that caused them snickered and chattered together in the gusts of wind that blew suddenly, then dissipated just as quickly.

  


It was there, as they settled by the river, that Ben and Rey finally let go of each other. Rey’s hand felt instantly colder than the one shoved in her pocket had ever been; it was as though all the wind in the world had suddenly concentrated on that one part of her. She rubbed her hands together briskly, desperately trying to imitate the warmth she had been unknowingly enjoying. It did little good. Rey resigned herself to settling down with her friends and preparing to wade into the freezing river water.

  


“So.” Finn spoke softly so that only Rey could hear him, leaning in a little for good measure. “What changed? I mean, I knew that you two had been spending more time together and were, you know, friends… but _dating?_ Jess must be a freaking mind-reader to have known.”

  


“Well…” Rey found herself struggling, not sure what to say – this wasn’t a question for which she had prepared. She pulled her knees up to her chest, ostensibly to reach the laces of her shoes, but in truth meaning that she was more curled up. As Rey looked into her best friend’s jasper-brown eyes, she felt the truth on the tip of her tongue – even though it was well-before the agreed time for the big reveal.

  


Rey looked over Finn’s shoulder to see Ben braving the frigid waters. Jess was already in up to her mid-calves and Poe was standing on the shore, watching, wide-eyed, as Ben stepped cautiously into the current. Finn, too, turned to look.

  


Ben was doing his best to hold back his expressions of mild agony as his unprotected feet disappeared beneath the icy, rippling waves – Jess was absolutely hollering with laughter at his efforts. He wasn’t reacting to her teasing, like Rey would have expected of him, but instead concentrated on where he was next stepping. In any other situation, Ben would have bitten Jess’ head off for laughing at him – though Rey wasn’t one to question minor miracles. He was doing it for the prank, of course, making the effort to get along with Rey’s friends. Still, it was why she _did_ like Ben – he was trying.

  


“ _If we can, tell the actual truth.”_

  


Rey returned her attention to the laces of her shoes, tugging them apart a little more hastily than was necessary, her knee pressed into her collarbone. She chewed on her bottom lip as she considered her alternatives; what answer would she – _could_ she – give?

  


_It won’t matter anyway… in a couple of hours Ben and I will scream “April Fools” and then everything we said will be assumed to be part of the gag_.

  


All the same, Rey felt her heart pick up in pace ever-so-slightly.

  


“I suppose… I was wrong about Ben – not entirely, y’know, he can still be an absolute arse but…” Rey’s eyes flicked back to Ben standing in the water to see he was already looking at her, the sun gently shining on his black-as-night hair. Ben smiled, and so did Rey. “I do like him, Finn,” she said simply, turning her gaze back to her friend as she blindly kicked off her shoes.

  


Finn nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer. This was soon followed by a shadow crossing his face. “Aaaand… what about his, uh, band?”

  


Rey could see through her friend’s softly, almost imperceptibly, uncertain expression to the information he wanted. Did Rey get along with them? Were they at a supposed truce now? Tugging off her socks, Rey quickly pushed aside the slight rumbling of insult she took at Finn feeling the need to ask that question – essentially, to question her loyalty to him. This wasn’t about her feelings, though, this was about Finn’s. _So much for a light-hearted prank_.

  


“They’re _his_ friends, Finn, I have _nothing_ to do with them.” To reassure him, Rey squeezed Finn’s shoulder through his shirt and smiled. Finn didn’t hesitate before returning the expression – even if it was less convincing.

  


It was one of the _many_ reasons that Rey was glad this dating lark was only a prank and not real. There was no way Rey would ever forgive Hux and Phasma for what they did to Finn and it wasn’t lost on her that these were the people with whom Ben chose to spend his time. What that said about him, Rey was somewhat queasily uncertain. What that said about _her_ – apparently Ben’s only other friend – Rey was in even less of a hurry to contemplate.

  


Instead of worrying about her fake relationship, however, Rey decided to be content sitting on a sunny riverbank with her toes dangling in freezing waters. Paddling could wait for now. Finn didn’t seem eager to press anymore questions either. The pair sat, enjoying the sunshine and shivering with every whistle of the breeze.

  


Rey was more than happy to rest her head on Finn’s shoulder and let the sounds of happy children and a rushing river wash over her. In the trees far above her, Rey could hear the sound of a pigeon, cooing its warning to the bathers down below. Allowing herself to let everything else slip away downriver, Rey savoured her moment of serenity.

  


A nearby yelp and a splash that flicked water up over Rey and Finn had them both turning to look at the rest of their group. The first thing they saw was Poe’s feet sticking out of the water. The rest of him speedily re-joined them above the surface of the water with another great _splash_ and a melodramatic – and probably completely unnecessary – gasp for breath.

  


Poe grinned glibly around at his friends and the few children who had stopped their play to watch a fully-grown man topple over in the river. To be fair, it was quite the spectacle. Poe’s shirt now clung to his body the same way his dark, curly hair clung in sopping waves to his ruddy cheeks. There was a bit of something green poking out on top of his head. Jess was holding her sides as she leant, almost bent-double, against a tree, cackling at the sight. Ben just stood by in a state of mild shock.

  


“Well,” Poe announced loudly, making no effort whatsoever to stand up, his glistening eyes fixed on Finn. “Are you coming in, or what?”

  


There was a beat in which Finn stared, gobsmacked, at his goof of a boyfriend. Rey figured she must have looked something similar judging from the way Poe was smirking. Finn soon recollected himself and was laughing at least as loudly as Jess, his warm laugh echoing off the trees like it was what made the sun shine.

  


Hauling himself to his feet, Finn ambled down into the water and grabbed Poe’s now-extended arm. “You know,” Finn said as he pulled Poe up from the riverbed with a sloshing, sucking noise. “There are easier ways to get my attention.”

  


“Perhaps, but that was -ow! More fun.” Poe’s hand reflexively went to rub his backside, which had inevitably suffered the worst in his fall. Jess continued to snicker and Finn just rolled his eyes.

  


While Poe insisted he was fine and that Poe should come to the middle of the river because it was better, Ben stealthily picked his way around the discarded clothes and bags on the riverbank back to Rey’s side. Plonking down beside her, Ben let out a groaning sigh. He fell back against the packed, damp earth, his left knee gently knocking into Rey’s leg. In a move worthy of one of Poe’s melodramatics, Ben threw his arm haphazardly across his face with yet another sigh.

  


Rey rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong with _you?_ ”

  


“Being around people is so _exhausting!_ ” Came the whining, semi-muffled reply.

  


“Because being around _you_ is always such a walk in the park,” Rey murmured, staring fixedly into the running water.

  


The sound of rustling clothing by Rey’s right ear, as well as the gentle rubbing motion of Ben’s left knee on her leg, told her Ben was sitting up a little. Rey looked over her shoulder to see Ben propping himself up on his elbows, face twitching as an errant chip of stone poked its way through his sleeves to scrape at his skin. He puffed and sighed dramatically as he looked up at Rey through soft, dark locks of hair. Ben’s sharp black eyes glinted in the sunlight like the sparkling water at his feet.

  


“I heard that, y’know,” he muttered.

  


Rey didn’t tell him he was meant to hear it.

  


Sitting there in the calm, Rey felt herself transported back to that morning in Leia’s house when she sat on the side of Ben’s bed and felt that static from his skin. His hair had fallen over his face in almost exactly the same way it had back in his room. Rey couldn’t tell specifics, of course, given that it had been tricky to see finer detail in the dim confines of Ben’s unlit room.

  


There, however, at the water’s edge, Rey could see how Ben’s unruly mop of hair had been carefully styled back into soft waves. Only a single loose curl rebelled, dangling over his right eyebrow. When the wind stirred, it lifted only enough to reach the side of Ben’s face, then settled back in its position of resistance. From there, Rey could let her eyes wander down his face, across pale skin and freckles, and almost-unnoticeable hairs his razor had missed.

  


_Buzz, buzz._

  


They both jolted at the sound of Ben’s phone vibrating suddenly between them. Wide eyes soon melted away under curious frowns as Ben fished out the phone from his pocket.

  


The screen illuminated at once with a notification from Ben’s SpaceBook profile. Rey watched Ben’s face move through his emotions from confusion to irritation to shock. The way people behaved on SpaceBook, that reaction wasn’t unfamiliar to Rey, but she never thought that Ben was the kind of person to be bothered by what people said online, much less the slight crimson flush that tickled his ears and throat. _Must be one of his relatives..._

  


“What is it?” Rey asked.

  


Ben didn’t react immediately, only frowned more and licked his lips. After a few seconds of silence, Rey got fed up and punched Ben’s shoulder. He shot a glare at her and shoved the phone in her direction.

  


“It seems one of your friends tagged us in a photo,” Ben muttered.

  


“So?”

  


Rey grabbed the phone; a photo from Poe’s profile filled the screen. The shot was of the pair of them from a little distance, sat as they were on the riverbank, tepid rays speckling them with sunshine. Ben was pushing himself up to be face-to-face with Rey, his neck fully stretched. Rey herself was leaning down – much further than she remembered – to be within inches of Ben’s face. Their expressions looked unrealistically… content – she would have to find out what kind of filter Poe had used. Beyond the obvious tinkering, Rey had to admit it was a good photo – the caption could use a bit of work, however: check out the goo-goo eyes on the happy couple!

  


Poe was _definitely_ going to get it in the neck later.

  


“ _So_ ,” Ben began in tone of exasperated pseudo-patience, “look at the top comment.”

  


Rey rolled her eyes and scrolled down with her thumb. When her gaze landed on the offending comment, her jaw dropped. It was from Leia, and comprised a sentence that made Rey’s heart stop for a beat.

  


_I’m so glad you two finally got together! Xxx_

  


“Oh… _great_.”


End file.
